


object impermanence

by GreenRoyale, myownremorse



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BDSM, Barney Barton/Natasha Romanov - Freeform, But also, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton isn't Ronan Yet, Clint and Laura Barton's Family, Comfort/Angst, Complete, Cuffing, Cuffs, F/M, Light Bondage, Marvel Universe, Natasha's death, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Natasha Romanov, Riding, Rough Sex, Smut, Sub!Natasha, TrickWidow, Will probably add more tags and characters once we figure out wtf we're doing with plot, bottom!natasha, dom!Natasha, natasha is a femme fatale, top!Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:37:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenRoyale/pseuds/GreenRoyale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownremorse/pseuds/myownremorse
Summary: It's two weeks after the Incident, and it's time for the funeral.Only, one more Barton shows up than expected.or--Natasha gets protective of Clint and Barney makes her sandwiches at 3am





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha have a funeral at the farm for his family. An unwanted guest makes an appearance, and he's more perceptive than he lets on.

Clint let go.

When he pulled his hand away, there sat a bouquet of daisies and sunflowers. The daisies were Laura’s favorite, and the sunflowers Lila’s. They balanced lightly on the wooden swing in front of him, gently swaying back and forth, the petals trembling against the air they ran through. He swallowed hard, a tear streaking down his cheek as he squatted down in front of the swing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled a baseball glove out and set it underneath the swing. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and his head immediately hung, his shoulders going limp along with it. Clint swallowed hard and reached a hand across his chest to rest his on top of the hand on his shoulder, wrapping his dry, calloused hand around the small, soft, familiar fingers gripping the top of his shoulder. 

“I found it.” Natasha cleared her throat, gently setting a small knit hat on the ground next to the baseball glove. She stood behind Clint, holding him tightly with her one hand. Funerals had never been her thing. With how much death she had in her life--oftentimes at her own hands--going to funerals seemed like a pointless venture with nothing to gain. But she cared about the Bartons, and most importantly, she knew she had to take care of the one Barton she still had here.

Neither of them had anything to say. It wasn’t like they were the most outspoken pair. Clint had already been outside for over an hour, having stormed out of the house after a frenzied panic upon not being able to place little Nathaniel’s winter cap. He’d had as much time as was helpful to sit out here in silence, thinking about them. It felt odd to try and talk to them, not that talking to your dead ever made much actual sense, but this time, there were no actual bodies, nowhere for Clint to direct his thoughts and words. So he just thought--hard. Everything in him wanted to give into this anger he was feeling. He wanted to go find this Thanos guy and make him pay for what he had done, but from what Natasha had explained, no one even knew where he was. So he was just stuck here on earth, with nobody to love and no one to avenge. His family had been erased. What was he going to do? Find someone to perform magic and bring them back? That always turned out horribly in movies, but even then they at least had a body, a luxury he did not. 

Clint stood, causing Natasha’s hand to drop to her side as he let out a long breath, wiping away the tear from his face with the cuff of his suit. She silently reached for her own elbow, clasping her arm across her front as her eyes were glued to the sad picture in front of her. The black-clad redhead moved to stand beside Clint. Again, she tried to think of something to say to him, but what does one even say to someone who is mourning a non-death?  _ You’ll see them again someday.  _ Or  _ At least they’re not in pain anymore.  _ Or even better  _ At least they’re with those they love.  _

None of that applied here.

“This isn’t right.” Clint finally breathed, inhaling sharply through his teeth as he ran a rough hand through his hair. “It’s not fucking right.” Once he finished speaking, his jaw reverted back to its clenched state. It seemed to Natasha that he hadn’t lost the tension in his body since the Incident.

She couldn’t blame him. They’d all lost people, only Clint was the only one on the team that didn’t know it was coming, and from what she could tell, it had been a pretty traumatic experience. Losing any family member was always difficult, but this had no precedence, no warning, and suddenly, Clint was alone. The two of them stood, dressed in black, at the tree with the swing.

Natasha stood silently with her arms crossed tightly across her chest, gripping each elbow as she looked down at the ground. There were no words. Usually, Natasha did a great job of keeping her emotions in tact, but this had been harder on her than she had let on. On top of losing half of the only family she had ever had, she’d lost the people who had first taken her in, the first people who ever cared for her without question. Of course it took her a bit longer to warm up to them than they did her, but eventually, they became family too. And the kids.

Oh, the kids.

They looked up to her. In their eyes, Auntie Nat could do no wrong. And for a long time, it was that fact that allowed her to get out of bed in the morning, even during some of the worst days. Then there was Nathaniel. They’d named their son after her. Holding him in her arms, it was the closest Natasha knew she would ever get to having her own child. The day that Clint and Laura asked her to be the kid’s godparent was possibly one of the happiest in her life. She’d come so far in the last few years. Never had Natasha ever thought she’d be a godparent to a child, much less have a family. And never did she ever think that she would accept  _ herself  _ enough to let herself have these things. 

But they were Clint’s family first. 

As much as she missed them, and as much as she felt like screaming and breaking down into horrible sobs, she couldn’t. Not right now. Clint needed her, and he needed someone to be strong because right now he couldn’t.

“We’re going to get them back, Clint.”

“How?” he croaked out dryly, staring blankly at the horizon in front of them, fists tight in his pant pockets. “And don’t tell me that you’ll figure it out, Nat. You guys couldn't stop him then. What makes you think you could fix this now?”

It hurt, of course, but he wasn’t wrong, so she couldn’t complain. Plus she knew that fighting wouldn’t help anything, so she said nothing, closing her eyes and just listening to the silence of the now empty farm. Well, it  _ was  _ silence. Now there was what sounded like a really old truck tearing through the road behind the trees. Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head up for a split second. Natasha wasn’t sure if Clint could hear it. Her hearing was slightly heightened, and if he didn’t have his aids in, there was no way he would notice it quite yet. Natasha straightened her back, turning her head slightly as not to draw too much attention to herself.

Clint did notice, and his head turned from where he had been staring to the clearing where the car would eventually appear. It’d still be pretty far away, but only a handful of people knew where their farm was, so chances were that he would know the person at one glance of the vehicle.

It was an old truck alright. From the looks of it, one might wonder how that thing could even be running, but it was running alright. The truck came down the road and the driver pulled up right to the front of the farmhouse, the roaring engine idling to a dull hum and then silence.

Out stepped a tall man, hair length just past his ears and the colour of autumn leaves. There was something familiar about his face. Maybe it was the look of surprise, maybe it was the way he stood upright like an unyielding oak tree. Maybe it was just the fact that he looked like a duplicate of dear old Clint himself.

“What the fuck…” Natasha mumbled under her breath, head tilting at the man that she definitely did not recognize. He certainly looked familiar, but he was not on the list of people she knew that knew of Clint’s farm. “Clint, who’s th-” As she turned to look at Clint, she noticed that he was gone, already a good ten steps ahead of her on his way back into the house. What? She looked back at the man and the truck and cupped her eyes, shielding them from the sun to try and get a better look at him as he began to walk towards them.

Of course, Clint would leave at the mere sight of him. If there was one person Clint would rather not see at the lowest of his low points, it would be him.

The blonde girl walking towards him looked like she was ready to investigate, to question him in every way that would put a police interrogation to shame. Don't ask why, but he just had a feeling from a look at her.

Out of politeness, he stood there fiddling with his keys and took a step closer towards the house. His gaze had been following Clint as the distraught man retreats to his home, but he was ready to ask and answer questions. “Is uh… is everything alright?”

“Who are you?” Any other day, there would have been more of an accusatory tone to her voice. That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t one, but it certainly was softer than it usually would have been. If this guy had Clint walking away at the mere sight of him, he had to be trouble.

“I'm Barney,” he said, the keys jangling in his hands as he gives a little shrug. “Clint's brother.”

“Oh.” She said, her tone hinting some pretty heavy disgust as she pursed her lips and dropped her hand from her eyes. She no longer needed to study him and why he looked familiar. Barney had done the work for her. “Look,” Natasha started, crossing her arms in front of her. “I don’t know if the black gown and suit is enough of a hint for you, but right now’s not a good time for a brotherly reconciliation if that’s what you came here for.”

Barney didn't say anything with regards to what Natasha had just said. She was right, they were both in black. Clint had just lost someone and clearly he didn't want to see Barney here.

“I don't have a suit, but I do have a shirt,” he said.

Natasha had clearly hinted that Barney was not needed nor was he welcomed here, but it doesn't matter. Barney came here because he wanted to be here. He needed to see Clint and he wasn't going to just leave.

“I'll go talk to him.”

“Yea, you and the millions of other people who can afford five dollars to go to a thrift shop. Congratulations.” Natasha stepped in front of him, shaking her head, her arm extending to push against his chest. “No, you’re no--”

“Coffee’s ready!” Clint’s voice boomed from where his head poked out of the door for a split second before it fell closed behind him. Natasha’s head whipped around in confusion, her eyes flying wide open. That was not what she expected. Feeling Barney try to step forward at this new invitation, her head darted back to look up at him, her hand remaining firm against his sternum as she shot him a cautionary gaze.

Her words may seem like she was being a bitch to him right now, but he knows she was trying to protect him. He understands that. Clint was just someone who deserves someone who could take care of him, Barney never was that person. So if this angry blonde lady was that person, he had no qualms about it.

He grabbed his bag and made his way into the house. “Hey, Clint.”

Natasha sighed shortly before falling in step with Barney. Her eyes flickered over to the bouquet of flowers that they had left on the swing earlier when they were holding their own little service before it had been cut short. This wasn’t the response she was expecting from Clint, and she really had no idea how to maneuver this situation.

When she walked inside, her eyes fell on Clint who had shed his suit and set it on the back of a kitchen chair, his tie undone around his neck. There two cups of coffee already on the table and one glass of just ice. He knew her well. Warm drinks had never been her thing. Clint fished for a spoon out of the almost bare dishwasher and slid it across the table to Natasha before handing her the remaining coffee in the pot. “So what brings you out here, Barney?” He was doing a good job of keeping himself together, only he was not making eye contact with either of them.

“I heard about the… thing…” he said, unsure of what he should be saying or what to name the incident. No matter what it was, it happened and it was horrid. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Giving it a moment, he held the backing of the chair right in front of him. His grip tightened slightly on the wood, frowning a little as he tries to pick and choose his words. “I'm sorry for what happened to you… to your family.”

Natasha’s eyes moved back and forth between the two as she sat quietly, pouring the coffee into her glass over the spoon. Her attention mostly fixated on Clint though. It was him she was worried about. She’d seen Clint through some tough shit in the past, but nothing had ever made him as turbulent before as she’d seen him this week. She had no idea how he’d react.

If he even did. At first, Clint didn’t even say anything. He leaned against the kitchen counter, facing the other two with his mug in hand. He simply nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked down into the mug, staring at his reflection through the steam.

The lack of reaction was enough for Barney to know that Clint was truly broken inside. He knew that he hadn't been the best brother in the world, but this he knows about his baby brother. Clint shutting down everyone and everything is his way of resigning to fate.

“I'm staying for a few days,” Barney said, not so much of asking for permission but more of announcing his presence now. “You should get some rest. I can help around or whatever.”

“You’re what?” Natasha’s eyebrows raised, and she stopped pouring her coffee, setting the spoon down as she finally looked at Barney. 

“I’ll get some sheets. You’re taking the couch.” Anyone sleeping in the kids’ rooms and was out of question, and Natasha had already taken the spare. Clint took a long sip from his coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Barney nodded and took his bag with him. “That will be fine. Thanks for the coffee by the way.”

He picked up the mug, drank from it and smacked his lips. He wasn't trying to ignore Natasha but he had things to do. After finishing the cup, he set it back down on the table and then looked to the woman. “I don't have anywhere else to be, took a few days off so I'll be here. Are you going to be here too?”

As soon as Barney thanked him for the coffee, Clint disappeared upstairs. He’d come back down with the sheets eventually, but right now, he just needed some space. This was already a lot, and now Barney was here too. Even if it was meant to be helpful, it was a lot. 

Once Clint left, her eyes fell on Barney, and she didn’t look away from him ever, even when he addressed her, her glare remained constant. “What’s your play here?”

“Play?” He asks, tilting his head slightly as he returns the glare with a curious look.

Natasha said nothing, but stood, moving to clear away the dishes that had been clearly out from a late lunch. One plate was clean, but the other still had plenty of food on it. She wrapped it and set it in the fridge. Natasha then began to rinse out the coffee pot, her back to Barney as she did so. Clint seemed strangely okay with him being here, so maybe she didn’t have to be so on edge. But Clint was supposed to be healing right now. Was having Barney here really going to let him do that?

Her silence meant she had much to say that had to remain unsaid, he respects that. So he simply turned away and went to the couch. It was going to be his new ‘room’ after all.

The look of this place gave him a stifling feeling. It was just horrible to be here. The pictures of Clint and his family, the toys that still were strewn across the floor. And is that crayon?

Setting his bag down, Barney starts to make himself useful around the living room. He picked up a few toys and the crayons, setting them on the table. Maybe he could ask the angry woman where he could keep these away later on. If he asked Clint, the answer may not reflect one of a sound mind. It would be best to let Clint be for now, he could at least agree on that.

“Leave the stuff.” She hadn’t even turned around. Her back was still to him, and she turned the sink of, shaking off her hands into the sink.

“I’m not trying to get rid of it,” he said, sending a glance back to the kitchen as he continues to clean up the mess. For one, it really was messy. The other reason why he’s cleaning up is mostly just because he didn’t want to step onto any of these things.

Clint had a way of dealing with heartbreak and troubles. Denial was the ultimate weapon he would use and boy would he keep being in denial. No  matter at which age, it was still painful to see.

“Barney.” Her tone was sharp as she turned to look at him, drying her hands off with a towel. She knew Clint wasn’t in a great place right now, and eventually, she’d clean the stuff up for him, but she wasn’t ready yet. “Stop.”

He finally set the last piece of item on the table and then straightened up, looking back to Natasha. “Look, I know you care for him. You're probably think you're the only person he has left now. Well you're not. Whether you like it or not, I'm here too.”

“I don’t like it.” She didn’t whisper. She didn’t try to hide it. Instead, she finished cleaning the kitchen and pulled her phone out of her dress pocket to look at the time. It was close to seven. “Don’t expect him to cook dinner for you or anything. He’s not exactly eating. If you want food, there’s a Chinese takeout menu in the drawer under the sink.” Natasha was tired. She’d spent the last week holding everything together so that Clint didn’t have to see her cry. Today was no exception, and if anything, today was worse. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning against the counter as she rubbed her eyes. She needed a shower. That would help. A nice, hot shower. Natasha took in a long breath before pushing off from the counter and heading up the stairs without so much as looking at Barney. As she disappeared up the stairs, she called back to him over her shoulder, “if anything is moved when I wake up tomorrow… No one will be able to find you.”

Something was definitely going on with her, she was probably more upset than she looks and Barney gets it. Barney never liked being in tense situations such as this. He was always the less serious one between the brothers, always the one who was more hopeful and more adaptable.

He would often tell Clint that they could get through things if they just played the game the way the rules had said to, of course not without bending or breaking one or two. Clint, on the other hand, tends to quit before things even got to the point of no return.

This woman, the one who had just threatened him to stop him from cleaning up… there is just something about her that makes him question everything. He needs to find out what it was before he makes a move later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barney helps Natasha grieve, and she's forced to try and reconcile the image of the man in front of her, holding her hand as she cries with the horror stories Clint has always told her about him.

Natasha had done her best to try and sleep, but she couldn’t. That wasn’t much of a change from the last few days. It was amazing she’d been able to keep an appetite. But sleeping had just not been something she’d been able to do. If she wasn’t having nightmares about the people she loved disappearing, she was trying to stop crying so that Clint couldn’t hear her through the thin walls of his house. She’d done a pretty good job, she thought, but tonight, she knew she wasn’t going to sleep. Even though she tried, she’d spent the last three hours tossing and turning in bed, stifling the cries before they could ever make a sound. But she’d kept her tears in for weeks. She needed to let it out. 

Even if it meant going for a walk. Sometimes that helped. She sighed and stood, grabbing a black silk robe from off of the back of a chair in her room and put it on. Nat looked over at the clock. It was 1:53. Clint would be asleep. Or at least he’d be confined to his room. As she made her way down the stairs, she sighed softly at the mess of the room. It hadn’t exactly been organized before. They had three kids. But then when Clint went on his rampage and practically tore the house apart looking for the winter cap, things had gotten worse. Reminders of the kids, of Laura, of the family she’d grown so close to, were strewn about the whole living room. She sighed short and began to pick things up off of the ground. The Bartons were nothing if not quaint. Their farm was a big enough tell, but then once you went inside, it was wicker chests galore. Their house was seldom s mess because they had ample storage. 

So silently, she began to pick things up, one by one and put them away. She’d completely forgotten about the man who was supposed to be staying with them. But he was not here right now, and she was distracted. An hour or so later, the room was clean, save for a photo album that had gotten tossed underneath the coffee table. Natasha grunted as she knelt down to pick it up. She turned it over in her hands. Everything inside of her was screaming at her to not open it up, but she moved to the couch anyways, sitting at the end, leaning forward with the album in her hands. Her lips pursed as she opened the first page, and immediately, she regretted it. 

It was a Christmas picture of the Bartons, the first year she’d stayed with them after being taken in by SHIELD. Christmas pictures were kind of a running joke for them. No one knew the family existed, so what was the point of taking a staged, Christmas-card-esque photo that only they would see. It was her first Christmas. Lila was on her shoulders, and Clint was holding their dog across his chest. He was a big lab, and he shouldn’t be being held, but that was Clint. Her immediate instinct was to smile, but then her stomach dropped. The happiness of the memory was good for a moment, but it soon disappeared, just like them. Her smile melted into a frown, and her hand came up to cover her mouth. They were really gone. 

A home like this kind of reminded Barney of their childhood. They were always thrown into homes like these as kids after their parents died in the car crash. He didn't know if he liked it, but he knew Clint always had wanted a home just like this one ever since they were kids. Now it is proven.

After taking a good hour or so seated outside on the porch, Barney had finally come back into the house. The sound of the door clicking was the only real indication that he had entered the house once more. Barney had always been sneaky and quiet, using his skills not to alarm anybody of his presence.

He was sure that he was going to be alone but then he sees the woman sitting on the couch, hunched over something. She looked upset and distraught, as should anybody who had just gone through something as traumatic as loss.

Walking over to the couch, he peers over her shoulder to see the album. Pictures of Clint's lost family.

Natasha heard him, but it was too late. She’d completely forgotten about Barney, but now she was half deep in a sob that wanted to tear its way from her throat. Her hand clasped tighter around her mouth, and she closed her eyes for a second. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she didn’t acknowledge him. With a shaking hand, she closed the book and set it on the coffee table, clearing her throat and sitting back silently on the couch. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, but if she tried hard enough, she might be able to suffocate the desire to cry. She was  _ not  _ about to cry in front of him. 

The timing was just too bad. He knew she was already about to break down and there was no way he could just walk away when they both already knew of each other's presence.

Pulling out a handkerchief, he hands it over to her. “Can I sit here?”

Natasha said nothing. She let out a shaking breath, as controlled as she could make it, slowly. Taking the handkerchief, Nat just held it in her lap, running the fabric through her fingers. She nodded to the seat next to her. Her voice wasn’t strong enough to tell him no, so there was no point in trying to make him go away. 

He sighed, saying a small thanks before sitting down next to her and just looking at the album that had been set aside just a moment ago. “Can I see that?” He asks, gesturing to the photo album.

He had to be honest, he's never seen Clint's family before. He knows what Clint was up to, but never really knew about all of the details. He had always been a whole distance away and for good reason.

“Be my guest.” Her voice shook as she finally spoke, gesturing to the book on the table. 

He picked it up, finally just flipping it open and smiling. Clint looked like he had a happy family. They were all so happy. It's beautiful. He perused it, admiring each detail.

“Do you know what happened?” He asks softly.

Why the hell did he want to talk?

Natasha forced a hard swallow down her throat and closed her eyes, sinking back, defeated into the couch. A part of her couldn’t help but feel responsible. She’d failed. They all had. 

“Yes.”

Obviously, she didn't want to talk about what happened. Obviously, Barney wanted to know. Either way, they both knew that talking about it could only go one way.

“You know… I was talking to someone when it happened…” he said. “They just… disappeared.”

He looks at the picture of the little kids on the album, laughing as they played. It was pure innocence and joy in their eyes. 

“Can never really tell what you like about someone until they're just… gone,” he said softly.

“Then I feel bad for your friends.” Natasha frowned, continuing to curl the fabric of the handkerchief between her fingers. She figured it might be able to distract herself, keep herself from crying. “I knew exactly what I loved about the people I--” Her voice cut short and she sighed sharply, her shoulders sinking heavily as she just closed her eyes and tilted her head.

That made him smile a little. It was a good start to know that she was actually angry. Any emotion was good for a start, and he didn't mind if it meant she needs to get angry at him first. He just kept watching her as she tried to tear his handkerchief apart and he notices that her nose was turning red from trying not to cry.

“Unfortunately I don't have friends,” he said. “What I do have is a brother… and I don't really care if he doesn't think he has me or anything of that sort. I had to know that he was still here. I hadn't thought of anything else then…”

“Took you long enough to get here.” Without even making a conscious decision, she directed her emotions as anger towards him. He was good. She had no idea what he was doing. “If you do anything to hurt him, don’t even question the fact that there will be consequences.”

“Larger consequences than losing the only family you have?” He asks, studying her as she threatens him once more. He didn't need to be a genius to know that she really cares about Clint. He shook his head a little, looking back to the pictures. “I know you care a lot about him, about his well being. I just don't want you to think of my absence as my ignorance.”

“I don’t think of it as ignorance. I think of it as a choice, a choice you made.” A tear finally fell from her eye, but she didn’t move, nor did she acknowledge it. If she didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t.

Tears of anger? Disappointment? Grieve? One tear would lead to more and it was good enough of a start. He flipped another page, seeing the absolute uncanny resemblance of Clint in the little boys.

“Sure, a choice,” he said. “One I had to make for the good of all of us. Him, his family. For me too.”

Natasha simply scoffed shaking her head and waiting until Barney leaned forward to look at the book before raising a hand to wipe away the tear, but not with the handkerchief. She didn’t need any proof that she had cried. They were tears of anger, of grief, but not towards him. She was angry at what had happened. She was angry at Thanos. And she was angry at herself for failing. To some level, she felt guilty for the world losing everything it had lost.

And she definitely felt guilty that the Bartons were gone.

Perhaps that was why she so adamantly cared for Clint. She had to make it up to him. She had to protect who she had left. Of course she would have cared for him anyways, but maybe that’s why she was so defensive about it.

“I made some sandwiches, if you want any,” he said. That was when he saw the little boys playing baseball, he allowed himself to chuckle softly at the look of it. “Man… I wish I played baseball like this as a kid…”

“I’m not hungry.” As soon as she said it though, her stomach growled, and she frowned a bit, sighing softly. It made sense. She hadn’t eaten since their late breakfast, and she’d spent the rest of the day and the night awake, and tossing and turning.

“Well I am,” he said, setting the album aside and then getting up. He went to get a plate full of it, coming back with a bottle of water as well. He set it down next to the album and sat down with a sigh.

It was also then that he notices the room was a little cleaner and packed. Now he knows why he wasn't allowed to clean up the mess, she had wanted to do it. It seems, both of their reasons were pretty much the same.

“Were you close to the kids?” He asks quietly.

Natasha nodded. He wasn’t wrong. She’d been putting it off, but she new she wanted to be the one to go through the stuff. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, or maybe she just missed them and wanted this bit of finality for herself. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Clint had been around when they disappeared, but it had been a few weeks since Natasha had seen the kids and Laura, and it was an awful feeling knowing that they weren’t gone because they’d never really left her, but knowing that they actually gone. It was haunting.

“Yea,” she paused, nodding again. “Their youngest was actually named after me.” There was a touch of fondness in her voice before the frown was back, and she hung her head, bringing her hand up to pinch her brow.

He nods a little, looking at the fat baby and then looking back to her. “What  _ is _ your name?”

“Natasha.” Finally, she folded the unused but very wrinkled and pulled-at handkerchief and handed it back to him. “Romanov.”

“Natasha Romanov,” he nods, taking the battered handkerchief and pocketed it. “I'm sure you know that Clint doesn't just let anyone into his life. Whoever he has, they are just the people that he has. He needs to heal.”

He looked back over his shoulder towards the stairs, as if glancing to the grieving Barton. “I may not be close to him, but he is devastated. I know that. It's okay to be devastated, sometimes I find that he just doesn't know when to cry. He thinks it makes him strong, but he can't heal if he doesn't cry.”

Nat scoffed again and finally pulled her hand away from her face, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re not talking about Clint.” She didn’t know why he was being nice to her. She gave him no reason to, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she l4iked.

“Nah, you're right,” he said, shrugging a little. “I'm talking about me. I stubbed my toe and wouldn't let myself cry. I mean, it was a pretty mean mahogany cupboard in the kitchen. Such pain for a sandwich, you should try it by the way.”

He picked up a sandwich and ate, knowing fully well the way he talks could just frustrate her further. At least it would make her exude more emotions.

Anger did flood her chest for a moment, but she knew in her right mind that she had nothing to be mad at him for. At least nothing that had occurred in the last twenty years. She begrudgingly reached forward and took a sandwich from off of the plate and turned it over in her hand. “What kind of sandwich?”

“There were eggs, so egg and mayo,” he said. “I may or may not have added some splash of ketchup in there.”

He smiled to her as he ate the sandwich, a lot like Clint would eat but a lot less graceful. Barney continued to eat in silence for a while, letting himself think in the solace before finally breaking the silence again.

“Why won't you let yourself cry?”

That sounded absolutely disgusting. Eggs and mayonnaise was normal enough. That was practically egg salad. But ketchup? She tried her best to not make a face, but that sounded literally horrible. Natasha opened a bit of the sandwich to peer inside and inspect the contents. Sure enough. Gross. She almost missed his question, partly because she was distracted, but also because it was not one she was expecting him to ask her. Nat put the sandwich back together and shook her head. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“It is, if it would affect Clint,” he said. “You're going to walk around, brooding and cleaning the place because you think you should. You're going to give advice that you don't even take, make him feel like he's brittle from the way you act. All because you think that crying for your own grief is going to make him fall apart. Sure, it sounds a little bit like my business. Also, that sandwich doesn't have ketchup, I ran out.””

Nat’s jaw clenched, and she turned her head ever so slightly to glare at him. “I don’t see you crying. Maybe you should take your own advice like you think I should.” Once she finished speaking, she took a bite of the sandwich and shifted on the couch a bit, leaning on the arm, away from him.

“I don't have the right to cry,” he told her easily. “I know what you think of me, and I know damn well what he thinks of me. I don't even know his family, and I've certainly not had a child been named after me. Crying is not part of my deal, now is it?”

“Really? There’s no one?” It didn’t even have to be about Clint. There had to be someone he was sad about losing. 50% of all living creatures were gone. “It doesn’t even have to be someone you’re close to. This whole thing was scary as fuck.” Her voice lowered, and she propped her head up on the arm of the couch, resting her chin on her fist as she stared at her half eaten sandwich.

He just gave her a little smile. “It isn't something to be proud of, I know. I really do only have Clint.”

Taking in a deep breath and sighing, he shrugs as he leans back into the couch and rested his head on the backrest, staring up at the ceiling. He really only has Clint, and even that he had screwed up so badly that he just… didn't have the guts to come back. It was part of why he rushed right back to find his baby brother when he realised what had happened. If he lost Clint, he would have lost everything.

She’d been so hungry, but this conversation really made her lose her appetite. Frowning, Natasha leaned forward and set the sandwich on the edge of the plate. She’d come back for it later, but right now, she felt like she might throw up. “Well…” Natasha closed her eyes and rested her chin back on her elbow. “Then you’re lucky.” It wasn’t bitterness in her tone but a sad resignation to the fate they’d all come to accept. 

“I don't think so,” he said, shaking his head as he glances to her. “You know… when it happened, the only thing I could think of was… Is Clint okay? I didn't know what I would have done if he was gone too, and I rushed here without much thought. With the chaos and the drop in manpower and whatnot, it felt like the journey took forever.

“And then when I got here… I saw his face and thought, oh… this is much worse,” he raised a hand, pressing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. His head was starting to hurt. “He's here, but his family isn't. You know? The family that he truly cares about? The one he built perfectly so he could forget how horrible his own was growing up? And then I turn up like that… can't help but think... How do you console someone who hates you?”

Did she want to give Barney therapy? No, not really. From the side of the story she’d gotten, Barney deserved everything that came his way. But taking care of everyone else was how she’d gotten through these last two weeks without having a breakdown. It was a distraction, but god, was it exhausting. Other than that though, she was glad that she’d distracted him and that they were no longer talking about her. Diversion was one of her strengths, after all. “Honestly, I was surprised at how okay he was to have you here. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Nah, it is bad,” he said easily. He looked to her once more, noticing she was trying to distract herself again. “Seriously, you're not going to cry?”

“‘Seriously,’ Barney, give it a rest.” Natasha sighed sharply, staring over at him with tired, red eyes. Of course he was a bit at a disadvantage. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know how long she could go hiding her emotions. She did, and honestly, it scared her sometimes. “I should get some sleep..” Her appetite was gone and had been replaced with a heavy pit in her stomach. She didn’t want to get up, but she knew if she stayed here much longer, she’d either start bawling or she’d kill her best friend’s brother. She couldn’t do either. 

“Well, sure if you say so,” he shrugged and then looked at the half eaten sandwich. “I can make more eggs if you want.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” It came out flat. She didn’t feel guilty about him being nice to her after she treated him like shit. She was just confused. 

“Why? Do you want me to treat you like shit because I don't know you?” He asks, a little boyish smirk just playing on his lips. He was a handsome bastard, too charming for his own good and he knew to use it for his own advantage. “You're my brother's best friend. It's the least I can do to someone who's been taking care of the little toad for so long.”

The urge to roll her eyes was so strong. She knew what he was doing. She did it way too often to not pick up on when someone was banking on their looks. But then he said ‘little toad,’ and her eyebrow raised. “Is… is that what you call Clint?””

“I call him a lot of things, but yeah… little toad is pretty common,” he said, shrugging a little. “Wanna know why?”

“Of course.” She wasn’t about to give Barney the satisfaction of knowing she was excited to hear this story, so she kept her tone as flat as possible, but honestly, this might be the best thing she’d heard in weeks. 

“You're gonna have to cry for me first,” he said teasingly, then just giving her the greatest shit-eating grin he could ever give to her. Basically just asking to be punched in the face.

“What, you just want me to cry on the spot? Just turn it on and off like a tap. How is that cathartic?” At this point, he was being a bit ridiculous. She was feeling so many emotions at this point. Sad wasn’t the only one. Frustration and anger towards him (which was a big one right now) certainly didn’t make her want to cry.

“Fine then, I'll tell you the story. You cry another time,” he said. “Fair deal? You don't even have to do it in front of me. How does that sound? Come on. Little Toad is a good story, from all the way back into our shared childhood.” 

He’d have no way of knowing. She narrowed her eyes slightly, then nodded. “Fine. Storytime.” Sitting up, Natasha nudged him with her elbow a bit to motion for him to get going. 

He let her nudge him as he sits comfortably then. “So when we were kids. Like little kids… I was about eight and he was maybe… Five? Six? Anyway we liked to go out and catch frogs, especially during rainy days. Because our parents didn't have time to buy us toys or whatever, so we had to do something with our free time.

“We would go out and catch frogs from the mud places, under the rocks and all,” he said, smiling at the fond memory. “Then one time, it was right after a really heavy rain and Clint was going a little further than he should. You know because it was raining so he can't really hear me calling his name. I kept telling him not to go too far. But he still did… guess what happened? He slipped and fell in the mud. Didn't get hurt much but he was absolutely drenched in the mud. So since that time, he was the little toad.”

Natasha’s brows furrowed upwards and she let out a soft sigh. That was so cute. The image of tiny little Clint, wiggling around in the mud.. She laughed softly and looked down at her lap. As long as Natasha could remember, she loved the rain. There was something incredibly calming about it. The rain was cool on her skin. It never hurt like the sun. The sound of the rain was also just peaceful. She could sit in it for hours. It was a happy place for her, so to hear that story about Clint, but also have all of the happy memories of rain brought a bit of a sad smile to her face. She brought her hands up to rub her face and laughed softly behind them, keeping them there over her eyes. “I love that.”

“Yeah, we used to play in the rain too sometimes,” he said. “You should see Clint in one of those ugly kid raincoats. Those yellow ones, with yellow boots and all. He was a yellow toad, nasty little poisonous things.”

Natasha laughed again. “Those are frogs.”

“No he was a hideous child, a toad,” Barney furrowed his eyebrows as if he was thinking seriously, then shook his head. “But he had his own charms.”

“No, but those poisonous frogs you’re talking about, those are frogs—“ Whatever. He wasn’t getting it. She pulled her hands from her face and looked over at Barney, scoffing, then shaking her head and turning to look away. “He certainly does.”

He smiled as she looks away from him. There were many things he still has to find out about her, but he really was more interested in making her feel comfortably uncomfortable with him being here. “Hey… can I just ask you something?”

“You just did, but sure.” She nodded, still looking forward and away from him. 

He lets out a laugh, mostly just a “ha!” Then he clicked his tongue. “Not trying to be all about me or anything but… has he ever… you know… talked about me? Mentioned me or anything? Just out of curiosity. If he did, that's alright. If he didn't, that's cool too.”

She didn’t know which was worse. She could say that Clint never talked about his brother, and cause Barney to be sad, or she could tell him exactly what Clint has said about him, and break his heart. So she said nothing at first, clasping her hands in front of her and leaning her elbows on her knees. “In his day to day, normal life? No, he doesn’t talk about you much. But you’ve come up before, when I was getting to know Clint a little more and we shared a bit about our lives and all that fun shit.” That wasn’t awful, right? It answered his question, hopefully without making him feel too bad. 

Barney bit his lower lip for a moment, slowly nodding and then looking forward. He knew what that meant. “Yeah, that… that's great.”

He nods again and looked to her, smiling that big boyish grin again. With that expression on his face, it really doesn't give away what he feels truly inside. He was better at hiding his emotions and what he was thinking than he could ever be pegged for. What could he say? He looked like he has been homeless for a decade and he dropped into his brother's life just thinking it would all be okay. He didn't need Natasha to tell him what Clint had said about him to know it was all shits and rats.

Apparently it wasn’t as good as he thought. Without looking at him, she could feel his smile, and it killed her inside. She’d faked shit for so long. She knew it when she saw it. But maybe he’d feel better if she didn’t point that out. Maybe he’d feel better if he thought he had the upper hand, that no one knew he was hurting. No, she was projecting, and she knew it. Natasha knew he was faking, but she didn’t know why. He wasn’t her, and she shouldn’t analyze him like he was. She frowned a bit, then leaned back on the couch, her head resting on the back as she stared up at the ceiling. “You’re being really hypocritical right now.”

“Yeah you're one to judge,” he said, still keeping his smile and then leaning back on the couch again. He leaned his head back as well, now just looking up at the ceiling like her. He took a deep breath, letting out a hefty sigh. “At least he remembers me. No matter in what way…”

Then he turned to look at her, a question burning in his mind. He has had it for the whole evening but he never got to ask. He was practically thinking it aloud in his mind, the words were just not coming out from his mouth.

“I’m just saying. You can’t tell me to be emotional, but refuse to show your own. That’s shitty.” Then she realized… that’s what he’d been trying to tell her about her and Clint. “Oh.”

It was a great time of realization, it was really perfect. He just smiled to her and then set his handkerchief on her knee. “I know he's not asleep yet. He won't be sleeping for the next few days. Do you think he'll want sandwiches?”

She sighed softly. Without even looking, Natasha knew exactly what he’d put on her knee. Her stomach sank a bit. She was having a hard time reconciling all those things Clint had told her about him with the guy who was sitting right next to her and had been the first person to try and check in on her after this entire ordeal. “You know…” She started, voice quiet and gravely as she stared at the ceiling, her eyes stinging a bit. “You’re the first person that’s tried to talk to me about all this. Albeit, kinda shittily, but still.” Her eyes closed, and she drew in a long breath, feeling her throat tighten a bit. At his question, she opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped when she heard the door to Clint’s room close upstairs. Her eyes opened, and she turned her head towards the stairs behind them. Had he been listening this whole time? 

The door shutting confirmed it. Clint had been awake and listening. Barney didn't like this feeling of his heart just sinking lower. The last time he felt this, he ran away. This time, he was trying to hold it still so that he wouldn't run again. Clint needed him here.

“You should go and see him. He wouldn't wanna see me, you're different though. You're a great sight for sore eyes,” Barney said, picking up the plate and setting it down again, then picked it up again. “I'll make new sandwiches. These are cold. Or do you want them? Otherwise… gotta keep them in the fridge, or somethin’.”

She didn’t want to see Clint now. If he heard her say what she said about Barney checking in on her, she knew he’d feel guilty. Natasha shook her head. “No, I doubt he wants to see me right now either.” She slid back down slowly into the couch and stared at the ceiling once more. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” She completely ignored his question about the sandwiches. He could do whatever he wanted with them. It didn’t matter to her. 

Her lack of response about the sandwich basically told him what to do with it. So he went to keep it in the fridge because he could eat nasty pizzas frozen overnight, so why not sandwiches?

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, not knowing what else to say. As he stared into the fridge for a while, another thing hits him in the face that was not just the cold freezer air.

“It's kinda late, maybe you should get some rest,” he said, shutting the fridge and then walking back to the couch. “Normally, I'd suggest a nice cuddle to forget all woes. But… the couch is kinda small.”

“My bed is too big for me.” She interjected it without much of a warning. Just a few hours ago, she hated Barney, but now, the possibility of having someone who might actually acknowledge her shit and give her some space to not be alone was too good to pass up. She’d been alone since the Incident, and it was horrible. Tony was gone. Steve had a lot on his plate and was never around. Clint was in his own little world, and she was just trying her best to keep them all afloat. Two weeks isn’t a long time, but it was when you were ignoring your own needs for that long. She’d wanted nothing more than to sleep in those two weeks, but she couldn’t. Now maybe she could. 

Without saying anything, Nat grabbed the handkerchief and headed for the stairs, disappearing into her room. 

Barney had to admit, her words caught him off guard but it was not uncalled for. They were all in situations that just throws them out of their own comfort zones. Things were terrible and he understood wanting to make things the best that they could be, even if it sucked ass.

He stood there for a moment, hand on the couch as he thinks it over.

Then he heads upstairs and enters her room silently. If he could do one thing to make the situation better, he would bet his ass that he would do it.

She had shed her robe and was already curled up in bed in one of the t-shirts she’d found in the drawers and had been using as pajamas. It was probably Laura’s. It smelled like her. Her back was to the door as she curled up around a pillow. Barney’s handkerchief was folded nicely and placed on the nightstand, just a few inches from her face as she laid there quietly. She’d only been away from him for a minute or so, but she could already feel herself on the brink of tears. Goddamnit… she was just so  _ tired.  _

Barney looked at the bed and then to her. He was a tall and big man, dressed in just a shirt and pants. Walking over to her, he sat on the bed and extended his legs just to see how far he could stretch before risking getting grabbed by the bogeyman.

Once he was sure he had space to lie down, he did just that and glanced to her. He waited for a moment, then finally turned towards her. He wasn't touching her, but he made sure she could feel the heat he radiates from his body. He had a hand under his cheek, and the other just resting on his side. He wasn't sure if she had wanted him to put his arms around her, but after a moment, he decided she could break his hand if she didn't want him to.

So he moved closer and put his arm around her.

She didn’t move away. If anything, she felt her body relax for the first time in a very, very long time. A shaking breath left her mouth, and she closed her eyes, leaning back into his arm a little. She didn’t want to cry, but  _ god,  _ did she need to. It was embarrassing, and she really didn’t want to cry in front of him, but the simple act of feeling his arm around her was enough to make her own breath catch. It felt like ages since she’d been this close to someone. Why hadn’t she fucking let herself heal? A hand snuck up in front of her, and she held a hand over her mouth, trying to keep herself from being too loud as she felt the first few tears fall out of the corners of her eyes.

He moved closer and hugged her tightly. He knew she just needed to do this, get it out of her system so she could heal. She needed to be stronger for Clint and she would be if she just come to terms that she was human too. She needs to cry and grieve, she needs to mourn.

She lost someone, she had the rights to mourn. Even if it had been a shitty evening, shitty way to discuss things and with the shittiest person there could possibly be… if it helps her accept her grief, it was enough.

Soon, her whole body was shaking. She felt bad. This wasn’t what Barney had in mind when he came to the farm. He came here for Clint, not her. She also hated that he had to see her like this. No one likes being around sad people. It sucks. And now he was in her bed, trying to hold her as she suppressed violent sobs as not to wake Clint. Her head hurt, and she was starting to feel dizzy. The hand clasped around her mouth was sure to leave a deep, red mark because of how tightly she was holding it. Her whole body had tensed up again as she finally expelled all of the shit she’d been holding in for so long. Eventually, she stopped when there were no more tears in her, and her body felt as if it was floating. Her eyes closed, and she let out a long breath. 

He hadn't made a sound, nor a move as she cried. All he did was hold her closer and he continued to hold her even as she stopped crying. Reaching over easily for the handkerchief, he set it by her pillow so she knew she could use it anytime if she felt like crying again later.

She may think that being around sad people was horrible to him, but he's spent long enough being around people who were cooped up in their own feelings that it felt refreshingly nice to be around someone who would cry. It gave him a sense of freedom, if he could be honest.

Closing his eyes as well, he tried not to think of anything else but just to rest. Hopefully, they could both get some rest tonight because tomorrow, they had to see Clint and it would be a whole new thing.

Natasha did her best to just steady her breathing, but really she just felt numb. If she was tired before, this was a whole different game. She just sunk into the bed, her body practically going limp as she finally pulled her hand away from her mouth, placing it gently on top of the hands that were wrapped around her waist. She probably wasn’t going to thank him, at least not right now. Hopefully that would get the message across. 

The blonde’s eyes remained closed, and her breathing began to slow. Gradually, she fell asleep, the fastest she had in weeks, and she stayed that way. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha gets the cuddle she deserves...and maybe the promise of a little bit extra

The days were far too long, but the nights were the worst. Sure, while the sun was up, there was just so much to do. There were trees to chop for firewood, fences to paint, pasta to cook… Clint always had these tasks in mind every time he woke and got up. It was what kept him going. But at nights… there was nothing to do.

He had to admit that all those tasks he had in mind were pathetic excuses to get from one room to the other. He had to keep moving or he would go mad. Occasionally he would see Natasha in one of the rooms in this house, then he would have the chance to talk.

Talking was a good way to get out of his own head. Sometimes he doesn't even remember what he talked about with her, sometimes it was just something menial like how there was a hole in the oven mitt. That's crazy, right? A hole in the oven mitt. How is he supposed to protect his hand from the heat if it didn't even give him a full coverage?

Crazy.

He would then walk from the kitchen to the living room with the sole purpose of watching TV. One of those game shows must be on right now, it would be great to just watch something and numb his mind… 

Just when he thinks he could distract himself, that was when he would be reminded once more of what he was distracting himself from. One of Nathaniel's toy cars had someone ended up under his foot.

“You should be keeping your toys after playing, how many times have I said?” And he remembers then that the owner of this toy can no longer hear him. So he picked it up and held it in his hand.

Oh how he wishes he could toss it out the window, but no. He couldn't even do that. 

TV would be great right now.

Clint is now seated in front of the TV, watching a game show that could numb his mind.

Natasha had slept in. Not only that, but she had  _ slept.  _ That next morning, when her eyes opened, it was actually bright out, a phenomenon that hadn’t occurred in what seemed like ages. As the light flooded the room, she became incredibly aware of the pair of arms around her. She’d almost forgotten. Her head hurt a little, and her eyes were puffy, but she felt better. Stifling a yawn, Natasha gently untangled herself from Barney and looked at the handkerchief that had sat, unused, on her pillow. Picking it up, she tucked it into Barney’s hand before she picked up her own black robe and tied it around herself. He could sleep as long as he wanted to. They’d stayed up super late, and she didn’t mind. She didn’t spend much time in the room anyways. 

After she closed the door silently behind her, Natasha made her way downstairs without making any sound. She was hungry and needed some breakfast. But before she could make it all the way down stairs, she heard the tv. 

Clint. 

Fuck. 

She’d forgotten until then that he’d been listening to the two of them. How much he heard, she had no idea, but she had no desire to find out. So as if nothing were wrong, she continued down the stairs and walked into the open kitchen, pulling the remaining eggs out of the refrigerator, and began cooking. 

There was noise coming from the kitchen and how Clint simply ignored it was all out of sheer willpower. He knew who it was, he knew exactly who it was. But maybe, just maybe if he didn't turn and look… maybe it would be who he had hoped for.

He knew it was silly, it was like a kid putting off opening a gift so he could hope that it was what he wanted. It was exactly like that. His fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the toy that he had long since forgotten to be in his hands.

He was ignoring her. Was he that pissed? She sighed softly and simply turned her back to him to finish making her breakfast. She wasn’t even sure if she should try to talk to him. It was understandable that he was upset. She’d said some pretty biting things last night. But she didn’t want him to be angry with her. Once she’d finished, she piled eggs and toast onto two plates, and walked into the living room, setting one down in front of him and the other in front of the empty space on the couch, where she then sat. 

When she came into the living room, Clint looked at the food and then nodded to her just to acknowledge her presence.

“Thanks,” he said, not touching the food just yet. It smelled wonderful, yes, but he just didn't have the appetite. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of doing something. What did he need to do after TV? Should he go clean up the lawn? Maybe he needs to clean up the garage, it was a mess before. It still is a mess now.

“No problem.” She nodded and began to eat, the way she always ate her fried eggs, the white first around the yolk, then scooping the yolk onto a fork to pop it in her mouth. He wasn’t saying anything, so she didn’t either. Maybe this was a bad idea. Should she have stayed upstairs? 

The game show kept playing and Clint was just staring at it blankly. Evidently, something was in his mind and it hung heavily. Even when something funny was happening on screen, something Clint would usually at least break a smile at, there was no reaction.

Finally, he spoke. “Am I too selfish?”

“Why do you ask that?” Natasha didn’t look at him but began to sop up the grease on her plate with the toast. 

“I'm not the only one who lost my family. It was your family too… but I never asked you how you were holding up,” he said. “That's selfish. I realise that now…”

“Clint…” she sighed softly and looked down at her plate. She really didn’t want to cry again, but she knew that talking to him about this would likely bring tears. “I was emotional last night, and I had a lot of pent up thoughts. You’re not selfish. I just spoke rashly. It’s fine.” 

“It's not fine,” he said, letting out a scoff and blowing raspberries as he tried to play it off as something ridiculous despite how deeply emotional this conversation was getting. Natasha has been holding it up for him, he could do the same for her without making it feel like all about him again. “I just… I guess I forgot about you needing to mourn too. That's what it was. I'm sorry for that and… thanks for being here, Nat. I really mean it.”

She nodded quietly and continued to stare at her plate. Things were never awkward when they were emotional with each other. They’d gotten past that a long time ago. But this was just hard. There were so many emotions with no real solution. It really just felt like an extended cry into the void. “I’m okay. And I’m not upset with you. It’s okay to be a little selfish right now. None of this was fair.” 

Clint had so much more to say, but she was right. None of it was fair. Beyond that, he didn't think what he was doing was any good. His family was gone, good people were gone. There is nothing he could do to change that.

That brought another thing to mind, the topic he detest to bring up at all times.

“It's none of my business, I know but… I'm not sure you should get so close to Barney,” he said instead. Inside Clint's head is just not the best place to be in at this very moment.

Now it was her turn to laugh. Natasha finished eating and set the plate down on the table, pulling her legs back underneath herself on the couch. “What makes you say that?” Now she was suddenly worried how much he knew about what had happened last night. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed. She just didn’t want him to think she was betraying him. 

“Come on, Natasha. It's Barney,” he said, turning to look at her and shrugging. “He's not exactly a wise oak tree. He's a passing breeze, he comes around once in a while and leaves just as quickly. It's just what he does, the first sight of things getting too complicated and he's gone. He's a runner. I just don't want you chasing after that.”

“No, I understand that. Trust me, I haven’t forgotten our conversations. I just..” Her head tilted, and she raised an eyebrow, finally turning to look at him. “Why do you think that’s something  _ I specifically  _ need to hear?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don't know. I guess I'm just getting too paranoid. If I know anything about him, I know he's gonna leave tomorrow if not today.”

“He said he’d stay a few days,” she reminded him, referencing their conversation from earlier in the kitchen. 

Clint simply nodded at that and then looked to the food in front of him. He finally picks it up, he needs to do something to feel like he was functioning well. Chewing the food felt unfamiliar all of a sudden, he just ate in silence as he stewed in his own thoughts. Maybe he was not making it clear, there was no way to tell her that he doesn't approve of Barney being close to her in any way. But he needs to remember, this is not the time to be selfish.

Clint didn’t seem so convinced. So Natasha said nothing as he picked up the plates and headed towards the kitchen. Was she defending Barney? Why the hell was she defending  _ him _ ? She sighed softly and rubbed her tired eyes. She’d slept amazingly, but she’d also slept more in that one night than she had the entire last two weeks. She wasn’t quite awake yet. Nat yawned and she leaned over, taking his spot on the couch as she laid down sideways, curling her legs up in front of herself. .

Looking at how she curled up on the couch, Clint reached over and patted her head. “You must be really tired. You should go and sleep some more. I'm going out to… do my lawn.”

“You need any help?” He’d just told her to sleep, and she probably could, but she’d already slept so much. There was no real reason why she shouldn’t other than that she felt like she shouldn’t. She was still dealing with the whole… letting herself heal thing. 

“Nah, I'm quite alright,” he said, shaking his head. He wanted to just get away from here.

Footsteps could be heard descending the stairs and of course, nobody needed to look to know that it was the other Barton. Barney had walked from the room all the way to the kitchen without saying much of a greeting, he let the noises he made just to make his presence known.

There was literally no one else in the house, so she knew who it had to be. Her eyebrows raised a bit, but she did not move from her spot on the couch. Clint hadn’t quite managed to make his exit before Barney got downstairs, or at least not from what she could tell from her limited vantage point on the couch. Her eyes closed quietly as she listened to see if an exchange would go down, especially if Barney had pulled a Clint and was listening from the stairs. 

There was no exchange whatsoever between the two. Barney had gone to make his cup of coffee and Clint had left the house. Maybe they said hi nonverbally, maybe they didn't. There was no way to know.

Coming back to the couch with a cup of coffee, Barney sat down and looked to her. “Had your breakfast?”

It was sad that she could be lying down on the couch and he was still able to sit down. She was just that tiny. Natasha nodded once and let her eyes open, falling on the game show that was still on tv. “You sleep fine?”

“Better than I have for a few days, the truck isn't exactly a pullout,” he said, sipping coffee and watching the nonsense on TV. “What about you?”

“Fair enough.” Natasha’s eyes focused on the tv in front of her that she was viewing sideways. She stifled a quiet yawn before nodding one more time. “Yea, I slept.” It was more than she’d really been able to do at all since she came to the house, so to even say that she’d slept was significant in and of itself. Nat finally narrowed her eyes, tired of watching sideways television, and sat up, stretching her arms out in front of her.

He shifted a little when she did, sitting more comfortably now and putting a free arm on the backrest of the couch as he watches the show. He was sipping from the cup, seemingly more invested in the show than he even wants to admit. “Do they deliver pizza around here?”

His arm was behind her, but she was leaned forward, legs crossed with her silk robe draped over her legs. The game show was clearly a rerun from the late nineties. She wasn’t that invested, but it was entertaining, and it was a good distraction from the small talk. “Yea, menu’s in the kitchen drawer.” There was no way Clint would have ever settled at this house if there wasn’t a decent pizza joint nearby. 

There was no way Barney would not have guessed that, but he needed to do some small talk to diffuse the tension. “I'll order some pepperoni. Do you want anything?”

How close she was to his hand just tempts him to touch her and he was curious as to whether he would break an arm from doing that. He didn't do it, of course, because he needs his arm.

“It’s ten in the morning.” 

“Buffalo wings then,” he said, getting up with an old man grunt and making his way to the kitchen. He has to order a pizza so he doesn't end up making egg mayo and ketchup sandwiches again that ends up not being eaten by anybody in the house.

Natasha closed her eyes and stifled a soft laugh, shaking and hanging her head. “Buffalo wings it is then.” She sighed a bit then sunk back into the couch. It was ten, and she wasn’t dressed, which was incredible. Over the last two weeks, she’d been up at sunrise, dressed, and at work to make sure everything on the farm was in good shape and that Clint had everything he needed. It was a distraction of course. She wouldn’t ever admit that talking to Barney was what convinced her to take a day off, but it certainly was. Today, she wasn’t going to do anything at all. 

Coming back after getting his pizza and wings order placed, he looked out the window to catch a glimpse of the outside. He didn't see Clint out there, so he assumed the other blonde had gone to hide himself in a hut.

“They said the order will come in maybe fifty minutes. That is a long time,” Barney said, walking back to the couch. “Does it usually take that long?”

“Depends on the time of day,” she shrugged. Seeing Barney come back, she scooted forward a bit on the couch so he could spread out again. Damn, why was this awkward? She usually prided herself on her ability to keep conversation going. It was a skill she had to have. But this was different. Maybe it was the fact that they’d cuddled last night, and he’d seen her cry. Maybe it was the fact that Clint’s asshole brother that she’d grown to despise for years had ended up not being all that bad, and she felt guilty or uncomfortable. Maybe it was all of the above. Hell if she knew. Nat cleared her throat and stared at the tv, saying the first thing that came to mind. “You know, I’m actually a redhead too.”

He looked to her and raised an eyebrow. “No way! But then again, it makes sense. You're one of the hot redheads.”

Barney was just grinning at his own quips, then looking at her hair. She was the one who brought up the topic, so it gave him reason to look at her. He was looking at the bleached hair and her skin colour. She had freckles, it made her beautiful. Shifting slightly, he moved to look at her right in the face.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Back to awkward again. He was staring at her. What the hell was she supposed to do with that. Natasha just sorta looked at him, waiting to see if he’d say  _ anything.  _ But he didn’t. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Maybe I will,” he said, nodding. “What colour are your eyes though? I can't quite make it.”

Her brows furrowed for a moment. Could he not just look at them and see. They were clearly “Green,” she answered, narrowing her eyes at him. “You an eye enthusiast or something?”

“Just checking the windows to your soul… yep, they're beautiful,” he said with a smile, then stayed there to watch her reaction. She is either going to punch him in the face or not.

Nat couldn’t quite look away. Her head tilted, and she shifted on the couch a bit, still somewhat facing him, but now moving the rest of her body towards him so she could be comfortable. “Did you hit your head at any point last night?”

“You may have punched me in the head last night in your sleep, but that's hardly the worst I've gotten from sharing a bed with somebody,” he said and then looked back to the TV as he continues to sprawl across the couch like it belonged to him.

“I did not,” she spat back in disbelief. There was no way she had punched him. She would have remembered or at least felt that, right? Why the hell did he stick around if she had punched him. “Why are you complimenting me?” Natasha was nothing if not incredibly forward, and she wanted answers, especially if he was still the person Clint was convinced he was. 

“Why not? I say it as it is. There is no reason for me to lie about how beautiful your eyes are,” he laughs a little. “Tell me. What would I get from telling you that your eyes are ugly, other than a black eye?”

“There’s no reason for you to say anything at all, and yet you are.” Her eyebrow raised, and she finally leaned back onto the couch, curling her legs up underneath her. This was her couch as much as it was his, and she was here first. Natasha didn’t have to accommodate him just because he wanted to flaunt the fact that he was a giant.

He was seated really comfortably and he didn't want her to be uncomfortable either so here they were sharing space on the couch easily.

“Well, how do I put this?” He scratches the scruff on his jaw and sighed. “I'm not always around for Clint. You would be here for a while, as far as I can tell. I just don't want to be a pain to anybody who is taking care of the little toad. That's all. Also, you're a really good cuddle buddy and that bed was super comfortable.”

Natasha scoffed, looking away when he started getting all mushy. She leaned back against his arm but stared silently at the television. “So basically you just don’t want to sleep on the couch. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he said, staring at the TV. After a while of just thinking and weighing his own thoughts, he finally spoke again. “Hey… how likely are you going to… you know… not be friends with Clint? Hypothetically speaking?”

It was an odd question. Her eyebrow raised once more, and her eyes moved to glance at him sideways without moving her head from facing the tv. “Not likely at all. Why?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “I'm getting really hungry… where is my pizza…”

Natasha rolled her eyes and shifted her body once more, this time to sit cross-legged and face the man next to her. “It’s been thirty minutes, Barney. Now why are you asking?” He could say as much shit as he wanted to, but if it had to do with Clint, it was important. 

He was still staring at the screen mostly, scratching his forehead with the arm that rests on the back of the couch. He didn't know what to say about that, he wasn't even sure why he asked. “I don't know. I'm just asking. Curious.”

That was pretty unconvincing to her. Nat’s lips pursed, and she let out a sharp sigh. She wasn’t about to interrogate him, not right now at least. Unsatisfied, but unlikely to keep pursuing this conversation, she shook her head and faced forward once more, leaning back onto the couch like she had been. “My room is always open.”

“Sure,” he nodded and leaned into her a little. He wasn't ready to open up just immediately at that. He wanted to hang around and maybe answer that question some other time.

Was she this stubborn and annoying to be around? Probably. But at least she was nice to look at. That wasn’t fair though. Almost as if suddenly becoming aware of her own thoughts, Natasha glanced over at Barney, quickly stealing a glance. The last 24 hours or so, she’d spent hating him without so much as even taking the chance to really look at him.

He was really fucking attractive. 

Her jaw set a little bit. She didn’t like that. And she knew Clint would  _ really  _ not like it if she ever verbalized that thought. So she kept it to herself and decided to just focus on the fact that he was stubborn, and just like the majority of the time she’d spent with him, she wanted to slap him silly. “Sure,” Nat drawled lowly, imitating him. 

“Sure,” he repeats, imitating her imitating him. He just knew that she hates his guts but he loved doing just this. He loved getting her angry at him somehow, he just lives for it.

She could feel him scoot closer to her. Nat wasn’t quite looking at him anymore, having turned to face the tv once more after she’d checked him out, but she was very aware of the gradually lessening gap between her shoulder and back and his chest. Her lips pursed, and she exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes in tandem with the sigh. What was his deal? He’d been so nice yesterday.

“Don’t push your luck, Barney.”

“I'm just sitting here, watching my TV and waiting for my pizza that is taking its absolute time to get here,” he sighs and shook his head. “If you want me to sit further away, I could.”

She knew she wasn’t imagining things. He could play it off as if nothing was happening all he wanted, but he was obviously up to something. Natasha said nothing, simply leaning back so that he was forced to be pushed back into the couch, with her back holding him there. Two could play at this game of chicken. 

Barney was no chicken. He was a nice, round, fleshy Turkey. If she planned to pin him down to the couch, he could easily let her. Why wouldn't he? She's gorgeous and she's got a nasty temper. Them being together was just recipe for disaster.

He didn’t do anything, which she thought was weird. Her eyes narrowed, and she side glanced at him without moving her head one more time. Had he just tricked her into cuddling with him. Is that was this was? That was insane. There was no way. Her eyes moved forward once more, as she sat there, confused but cuddled up to the giant redhead Barton. 

As her eyes started darting to him and to the TV screen, Barney kept his cool. His arm that was resting on the backrest of the couch shifted slightly and was now resting on her shoulder.

He  _ had.  _

Natasha felt her breath catch slightly for a moment as she sat there, leaned up against him with his arm around her. It’d been ages since she’d been in this position with  _ anyone,  _ much less Clint’s dick of an older brother. This didn’t feel right at all. But then why did she like it? Clint could come in at any moment, and she knew he’d be upset. She slowly relaxed against Barney, not wanting to appear flustered like she figured he was trying to do. Instead, she let one of her hands drop in front of her, landing gently on the upper inside of his thigh closest to her. She was back in the game. 

Well, if she is playing this game, so could he. It wasn't like he was absolutely uncomfortable with this. She wasn't trying to kill him and has he mentioned that she's beautiful yet? It was a win-win situation. Gently, he leaned in ever so slightly into her so they were in a full cuddle position on that couch. He would hate to admit it but he hasn't been in this position with anybody for so long that he felt a rush of comfort within him.

Before he could do much else, the door clicked and there were noises indicating someone was getting into the house again. Clint must have gotten bored outside.

Oh god. 

She had a good thirty seconds before he passed through the little front area and made it to the living room. With her knees still poised underneath her, Natasha grabbed the back of the couch behind her, and then propelled herself upwards and backwards, off of and behind the couch. She landed on her feet, facing forward. If anyone walked in, it would look like she’d simply been standing behind the couch, watching tv with Barney. 

As impressive as her move had been, it was also highly offensive. But as offensive as her actions had been, Barney couldn't help but feel impressed as well. All he could do was just furrow his brow and look over his shoulder at her.

“Did someone order pizza?” Clint asks, holding a few boxes in his hands as he enters the room to see the two in the living room. He didn't seem to notice anything, but if he did, he surely didn't mention it.

She wasn’t trying to be offensive. Really, she hadn’t thought much about it at all. The only thing on her mind was the fact that she wanted to take care of Clint, and Clint seeing that would probably kill him. Natasha looked from Barney to Clint and then nodded. “Yea, Barney did. I think there was wings too. I told him it was too early for pizza.”

“Yeah, that's mine,” Barney got up to his feet to take the boxes from Clint. “It's never too early for pizza.”

He walked to the counter, setting it down and opening it up so he could take the pizza to eat. Sure, she hadn't meant it to be offensive, but he could have guessed she would have at least pretended a little less. She leapt a whole ass couch there.

“Hey come and eat the pizza, the other one's mine,” he said, grabbing a whole box and bringing it away.

Natasha watched him quietly. She moved over to the kitchen island, subconsciously tightening her robe a bit. What the hell had happened? It was just a game. She shook her head slightly to herself. What the hell was she doing? If she took two seconds to look at herself, she’d know she just felt lonely. It wasn’t fair to Barney, no matter how much shit she’d heard about him. She’d spent her entire life using people. She shouldn’t use him. As he walked away, she tried to catch his eye to motion upstairs to her room, but before she could, he walked away with his pizza. “Clint, you want some?”

“Just leave some for me,” Clint said as he walked back to the couch that was now bare as Barney had gone to look out the window again with a box still in his hands. He wondered what else he could do now. The situation was just stupidly awkward, a part of him couldn't help but feel like he asked for this. Later, he walked to the couch and sat at the other end of where Clint had been sitting on.

Should she text him? She didn’t have his number. Did he even have a phone? She’d seen his car. It was unlikely. Damn. She’d been pretty heavily indoctrinated into thinking only negatively about him, hadn’t she? Nat reluctantly took a bite of the pizza as she continued to stare at Barney, practically burning holes in the back of his skull with her gaze, trying to get him to turn and look at her. 

If looks could kill, she was practically the embodiment of it. He simply scoffed when something funny happened on screen but apart from that he sat silently next to his brother. Clint took a slice of the pizza that Barney had offered, watching the show as it ended and another nonsense came up on screen. Then Barney finally turned and offered the pizza to Natasha, but still kept as minimal of eye contact with her. It barely even lasted a second before he turned back to the TV with his hand still offering the pizza.

Nat rolled her eyes. “Barney, can you come help me with this?” She nodded at nothing in particular in the kitchen. Clint wasn’t paying attention, and she hoped it would continue to stay that way. 

“Yeah,” he groans as he got up and set the box down. He walked to the kitchen, stretching his long arms over his head and touching the wall overhead. “What's up?” 

She had a strong urge to roll her eyes again, but she didn’t. Instead, she set down her piece of pizza and sighed softly, lowering her voice. “We need to talk at some point.” Finally, Natasha nodded up to the stairs towards her room. 

Barney sent a glance back to where Clint was, the blonde man seemed to be cuddling a pizza box to himself. The redhead simply sighed and nodded back to her as he stood there.

Her lips pursed for a moment before she called over to Clint. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Let me know if you need anything.” Setting her unfinished piece in the box, the small woman headed to the stairs, wrapping her arms around herself as she headed up to her room. It didn’t take long for her to get there, and when she did, she closed the door and sat on her bed.

Barney gave her time to get upstairs before he too went upstairs to follow her. He closed the door behind him as well, then gave a little shrug. “So what's the emergency?””

This was no easily breached conversation. Honestly, it might not be as big of a deal as she’s making it out to be. But she’s trying. She’s  _ been  _ trying, so goddamn hard to be a good person. Using Barney to feel better about herself was definitely not the way to go about that. She stood quietly and motioned for him to come in closer. The last thing she wanted to do was talk loudly and for Clint to hear them together. “Look, Barney, I really appreciate what you did last night..” 

“Which was?”

It took everything in her to not give him a ‘bitch, please’ look, but she managed to not. Instead, she took in one controlled breath and clasped her hands in front of her. “Staying in here last night. I really needed the company.” Natasha nodded, looking not quite at his eyes, but more at his neck than anything. Why the hell was he so tall? 

“But it’s not fair to you.” She spat out the words quickly. Being sappy was not exactly in her nature, especially not to someone she’d hated for so long. Natasha let go of her hands and used one to scratch the back of her head, letting out a soft laugh. “It’s funny. Clint was telling me to stay away from you, but really, I think he got it wrong.” There was no sadness in her tone. She simply spoke matter-of-fact-ly. “Listen, Barney..” she started, “I'm not an amazing person. I use people, and I’ve done it so much that sometimes it starts to happen without me realizing it.” Natasha had no desire to bare her soul to him, but he needed to know that she was bad news. 

“I’m not in the best place right now, and while I appreciate the fact that you want to help Clint, you should also help yourself and stay away from me.” Her voice was steady as she spoke, and she finally looked up at him, nodding. “I don’t want to hurt you because I’m lonely. That’s not fair to you, and..” She sighed softly and just shook her head. “It’s just not fair to you.”

“Oh you can deny it all you want but you want a piece of this,” he winks playfully just to diffuse the awkward situation she was getting herself into. One of them has got to be the idiot so they both don't crumble into pieces when it came to emotions. “I'm sure Clint's already told you all about me, you don't have to worry about me getting hurt. It's not like I'm going to stay here forever. I've got places to be too. So why don't we just make the best out of the situation and do what we need to do? You need some cuddles, I want to cuddle. I don't see anything wrong with that.”

She knew herself, and she knew it wouldn’t just stop at cuddling. “The thing is, you’re not wrong. And I hate that.” Natasha sighed sharply and shook her head. “And I hate the fact that even though I know it would kill Clint, I still want it.” She was hurting. She needed someone, no matter what that looked like. Natasha had been able to stave off that desire for two weeks by not letting herself get that sort of close with anyone, by just focusing on others. But then Barney just had to come along and fuck all of that up. Natasha’s eyes moved from the ground to look up at him in the eye. 

“Yeah, I get it,” he nods and sighs softly. They both cared about Clint more than they could even admit. If it was best for Clint, it would be best for them too. Right now, whatever it was that the two of them could get into, this isn't going to be great for Clint. “I don't need anything. I just wanna sleep through the night. It could be on the couch or on the bed, either way, I'm just here. Is that all?”

She couldn’t say she wasn’t disappointed. But she also didn’t expect him to fight her on this. They hadn’t known each other that long, and he wasn’t missing much by her pushing him away, at least not by her standards. “You can sleep on the bed. The couch is old as shit.” Of course it was just her being hopeful, but she wouldn’t tell him that. 

He didn't say anything else regarding that, simply giving a nod and looking to the bed that she sat on. “Just don't punch me in your sleep again.”

Natasha scoffed and shook her head. “There’s no way I punched you last night. I would have remembered that.”

“Maybe you just didn't remember it,” he grinned and then shrugged. “Alright. Is that all? Do you wanna hug it out? Pinky promise?”

“Barney, if  _ I  _ punched you, you’d have a bruise.” She sighed exasperatedly when he asked for a hug. “You’re something else. You know that,  right?”

“No?” He pouts, his arms open wide to embrace her but he knew she wouldn't take it so he shrugged. “Fine. I'll just go back downstairs and hug my pizza box.”

“God, don’t do  _ that. _ ” Natasha shook her head before slowly closing the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him in for a hug. If he wasn’t going to take her warning, she might as well get a hug out of his stupidity. 

Oh this is great. He has to admit he didn't know that she would actually walk into his hug but this is just perfect. He pulled her in and squeezed her in his arms, letting her know Barney Barton doesn't do half baked hugs. “There we go.”

She hardly expected herself to hug him. She definitely didn’t expect him—long limbs and all—to actually be a good hugger. Her eyes closed and she didn’t move. A good bit of the tension left her body, and she turned her head sideways, resting it on his chest for a moment. Natasha still couldn’t shake the question of why he was being so nice to her. 

He hugged her nice and warm, firmly holding her to his chest. She was nice and squishy to hug too. Feeling her relax in his embrace, he just smiled and put his hand on her head. He stroked it gently, like he would pet a cat. A beautiful blonde cat.

All of the sudden, she felt her chest tighten a bit and had an overwhelming urge to run. Normal people would call it butterflies, but Natasha had felt that before, and she knew it was dangerous. She said it over and over in her head.  _ You cannot be attracted to Clint’s brother.  _ But she knew that she was. 

Goddamnit. 

Her eyes remained closed as she felt his hand on her head. It was incredibly comforting, and she hated it. 

Maybe he just reminded her of Steve, big bulky guy that he was. Or maybe it was the familiarity of another Barton. Maybe it was the sharp wittedness of Bruce that she saw in him, or Tony’s arrogant smile. Or maybe it was Thor’s long hair. 

Or maybe she should stop trying to rationalize this and just call it what it was. 

“Barney?” her voice was soft as she raised her head to look up at him. 

“Yeah?”

She didn’t know what she was doing, and she knew she’d probably regret it later. Natasha sighed softly, her shoulders falling for a moment before she quickly propped herself up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, resting one of her hands on the side of his face. 

He barely realised what she was doing before he felt her lips on his own. He was so easily swayed by this, it was absolute nonsense. He just leaned into her kiss, not going too deep not pulling away prematurely. He just wants her to kiss him for as long as he needs it.

Her left hand was still rested gently on his waist, while her right hand crept around the back of his head to pull him closer. She kissed him slowly, tilting her head to the side a bit to get better access before she let out a soft sigh. That was embarrassing. Her face flushed red for a moment, but then she gradually pulled away, letting herself land back onto the flats of her feet. Her hand dropped down to lay gently on his chest as her head tilted down with it. 

Her cheeks had turned red, so did his. He could only hope she didn't blush out of embarrassment and regret, but of how good that kiss felt. Because he surely blushed for the second reason. Looking down at the hand that rested on his chest, he smiled softly.

Natasha stood there quietly. He wasn’t saying anything, but neither was she. She honestly wanted to do it again. But that was probably a bad idea. Reluctantly, her eyes flicked up to look at his. He was red. Oh god, was that bad? She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and just let out a soft chuckle. What had she done?

He just smiled to her and nodded a little. “That was a nice kiss. Can we do it again sometime? You know… just… kissing.”

He honestly doesn't mean it to sound as awkward as he did, but he didn't want to sound desperate either. It just felt like they both needed this at this moment, even if Clint would have a heartbreak if he ever finds out. It's not going to be a big deal though. It was just a kiss.

God he was awkward. But she didn’t care. Well, part of her did. Nat paused for a moment and stood there, looking up at him. Her index finger gently stroked back and forth on his chest where her hand was planted. She continued to watch him, torn. “I shouldn’t have done that, Barney. I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet she didn’t move away from him. 

“I get it. You don't want anything to do with me. I haven't exactly been holding the cleanest record,” he said, yet he wasn't moving away.

“No, it’s not that.” Natasha let out a short exhale and shook her head. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” 

“Can we not talk about that? I mean… cuddles are great, kisses are better. Can it just be about that instead?” He asks. “I'm not exactly rooted here, and you don't want to settle down either. We don't need to put labels on anything except ketchup bottles. How does that sound?”

A friends with benefits situation with Barney Barton. She knew that it was what she wanted. She was so incredibly down. And he seemed to be down for it as well. Natasha stared up at him continuing to bite down on her lip. Then she finally nodded. “All right. I like how that sounds.”

“Great, then that's settled,” he said as he looks to her lips. Did she have to bite her lips so sensuality? Already, this is more than what he had come here for and it could very well be some sort of sick joke but there was still a part of him that wished this was all real. “Wanna seal it with a kiss?”

This was all such a bad idea. But neither of them were moving, and they had both been very clear about the fact that they wanted to be here. But it was still such a bad idea. Natasha drew in a long breath and hesitantly smiled up at him. What the hell was she doing? “Yea, that sounds like a good idea.” Her arm at his waist wrapped around his back and pulled him closer, letting out a low hum as she did so. 

It was a strange feeling to just be here in all of the chaos and destruction, yet feel warmth and acceptance by the person he wouldn't have expected to get it from. Everything would be alright, that's what it feels like. Her kiss was sweet and warm on his lips, his arms wrapped around her as he pulls her into the kiss.

This felt extremely ‘soldier coming home from the war’-ish to Natasha, but she really couldn’t complain. It felt amazing. It’d been ages since she’d allowed herself to be that close to someone she  _ wasn’t  _ trying to mark or kill. When he held her, she felt safe, and that was more than she could say for anyone she could think of in the last decade. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let a soft moan make its way past her lips as she kissed him back, her spine melting like putty in his hands as he held her there. It seemed as if they were both equally destructive to each other’s physical desires and will powers. Good to know. Natasha finally pulled away, inhaling a short gasp as she did so. She knew that if she didn’t stop now, they’d have a much more pressing matter on their hands, so she used self-control. 

And her self control was already stronger and more than what he had. It was right of her to pull away so neither of them would end up falling too hard and too fast. No, not love. They were falling off a cliff and it was beyond terrifying. Barney isn't the kind to jump head first into something that he could not see after all.

Slowly, he unwrapped his arms around her waist and smiled. He didn't want to say anything and ruin the moment that they had right now, but at the same time he felt like he should. Maybe he was just being selfish, but he really wanted this no matter what or how Clint would react to it later. His baby brother wouldn't realise it just yet, but Barney has been doing so much just for him. It felt like if there was one thing Barney wanted right now just for himself, it would be  _ this _ right here.

It was still morning, barely noon. As he let her go, she backed up a bit and stuffed her hands into the pocket of her robe. It was very seldom that she actually told herself to stop, so stopping here when neither of them were in bed was very odd for her. But she nodded anyways, hoping he understood that she wanted this to continue but that they couldn’t exactly “kiss” in the middle of the day.  “I guess I’ll see you later then,” she started softly, nodding to no one in particular. “I should probably get that shower.”

He nods as well and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “And I should finish my pizza. If you take too long to come out of the shower, I'll eat your buffalo wings too.”

“You better not,” she laughed, slowly undoing the ties on her robe as she shrugged it off, revealing just the t shirt and underwear she wore beneath it. It was her room after all . If Barney was going to stay here, he might as well get used to it. She grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom without so much as looking over her shoulder. It was because she was freaking out still. This was crazy. If they got caught, this would end horribly. And yet, she still wanted him. 

He didn't quite know what he would do next but gosh this feels so right. As she goes to shower, he turns right around and headed back downstairs. Clint had fallen asleep on the couch, must have dozed off while watching TV. Once again, Barney was reminded of what he was here for. So the redhead simply went to eat his pizza and sat there quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 of 2 of the smut.
> 
> Barney and Nat go hard, and I needed to break it up because this is going to take a hot second.
> 
> Emphasis on hot ;)

The day seemed to go by incredibly slow. 

Natasha hated that for two reasons. The first was the obvious reason that she wanted it to go by faster, and the second was that this meant that she actually wanted this. 

She should not want this. 

But she did, and for the rest of the afternoon and evening, most of her thoughts and actions were motivated by the idea of actually being able to do whatever the hell she wanted to Barney. It definitely wasn’t the healthiest, but this was the first time Natasha had looked forward to anything in weeks. She might as well have fun with it. As soon as Barney had left the room, Natasha hopped into the shower and immediately grabbed a razor.

She shaved every part of her. Then she washed and used her specially nice smelling soap that she had packed when she left the Compound. There were only a few creature comforts that she took with her. This was an expensive luxury soap of sorts that Tony had given her. The smell reminded her of him. In fact, pretty much every item she had brought back from the Compound was some momento of those they had lost. This was no exception. But she didn’t want to focus on the sad stuff right now. To be completely honest, Tony would be honored to know that she was potentially getting it on while wearing the soap he gave her. 

Quite a long shower (certainly the longest since she got here) later, Natasha stepped out of the the bathroom into her room. The towel was wrapped loosely around herself. There were only two people in the house, and she knew Clint knew better than to intrude on her space. Barney would likely see her without clothes at some point anyways, so it didn’t make that much of a difference when she threw off her towel onto the bed. After pulling a bottle of lotion out of her permanently open suitcase, Natasha plopped onto her bed and began to cover every inch of her skin with the light purple cream. 

Her phone was just a few inches away on her bed, and with her clean hand, she picked it up and with a few clicks of a button, she had put in an order for something a little special that she’d go pick up in a bit. Once finished, the soon-to-be-redhead sprawled back onto the bed, allowing the ceiling fan to dry the lotion to her skin. Natasha decided right then that she would make this day just as unbearable for him as it was about to be for her. This brought a smug smile to her face.

Ten minutes later and Nat was down the stairs in a pair of workout shorts and a loose t-shirt. Thankfully, she had a car here that she could use. She’d taken one of Tony’s that never got used when she left the Compound. It was certainly a strange sight to see outside of the farm, but no one ever really came around here anyways to see. The coast was clear. She didn’t know where Clint or Barney were, but there were a few empty pizza boxes on the table, and the house was quiet, so she could only assume that they had gone for a walk or for target practice in the woods or something. That just meant fewer people to see her leave, which was perfect. 

 

…

 

“I figured you’d be out of practice, but goddamn, Barney. I had no clue it’d be  _ that  _ bad.”

Barney simply chuckled to himself and shook his head as he did his best to hold his tongue. This was the first time in a long while that the two had had any sort of conversation that didn’t end in one of them (Clint) getting ass-hurt and giving one of them (Barney) the silent treatment. So he said nothing and just let Clint feel good about himself. It could be thirty years later, and Clint was still the scrawny little kid who needed the validation of being better than his older brother. If that was what Clint needed right now, he’d let him have it. “Yea, I guess the ol’ arm ain’t what it used to be, huh?” He offered a bit of a bashful grin, scratching the back of his neck as the two walked up the stairs onto the porch. 

Barney reached for the door before he realized that Clint wasn’t next to him anymore. His head tilted, and he turned around to find Clint staring at the Audi that was parked behind the older Barton’s old truck. That  _ was  _ odd. It wasn’t parked there before. 

“Did Natasha say anything about going out?”

Barney furrowed his brow, then shrugged, turning the handle to walk into the house. “Not that I know of. She have a curfew or something?”

Clint rolled his eyes before finally falling in behind his brother once more and stepping inside. When they did, the two both tilted their heads up in response to a very noticeable fragrant smell that was lingering in the living room. It was nice, a beautiful combination of honey and flowers. Before either of them could question it, Natasha walked down the stairs, hair dried and blown out in a new green silk robe that was cinched around the waist. If Barney had thought she was hot earlier that day, then she was certainly even more so when cleaned up and dressed up. He shouldn’t be surprised though. He’d seen the footage. He’d seen the suit. But this was something completely different. 

“Hey, boys. Back from the hunt?” Nat offered a soft smile as she descended from the staircase, walking into the open kitchen. 

Clint hardly batted an eye. He wasn’t the most observant person in the world, plus he had seen Natasha like this before. When you’ve lived and worked together as long a these two you learn to get used to things. Natasha had grown up with almost all of the comforts of another Tony Stark, only she got them by deceit or smooth talking, not hard work and nepotism. It had been easy for her to come into the finer things in life. Sometimes she’d splurge. He just chalked this up to her being in one of her moods, and that maybe this was some way of trying to cheer herself up. 

Barney on the other hand, had no fucking clue what was going on. He’d certainly not seen Nat in any capacity close to this. He sorta just stood there, saying nothing until Clint opened his mouth, and he remembered they weren’t the only two in the room.

“No, I was just taking my older brother out back and reminding him who is the superior archer in the family.”

That earned an eye roll from Barney who shook his head and plopped onto the couch, leaning against the arm so that he could seem like he didn’t care but could still watch Natasha from where he sat. It was the perfect plan, right?

Wrong. 

Natasha could see him out of the corner of her eye, and she knew that it was working. She smiled to herself as she opened the refrigerator and leaned down to pull out a white Smirnoff Ice from inside, intentionally flaunting her ass as she did so.

Clint simply shook his head, setting his gear down on the kitchen island. It was amazing how much better shooting a few arrows could make him feel, even if it wasn’t perfect, it was a step in the right direction. “Seriously, Nat? You still drink those? They’re like sweet water.”

Nat just shrugged and walked into the living room, opening the bottle on her own as she plopped down on the couch, right next to Barney, refusing to even give him an ounce of attention. “You know the alcohol does nothing for me. I might as well enjoy it when I drink it.” It was only then that she glanced over at Barney who stared right back at her. She had expected him to quickly avert his gaze, but instead, he just watched her, his look unwavering. And boy did he look hungry. Her immediate reaction was to cower, but she couldn’t back down. Instead, she simply smiled, sweetly speaking to the redhead. “You two must be absolutely famished. You should do something to fix that.” Without breaking eye contact, she brought the bottle to her lips and took a long sip, purposefully rounding her lips around the tip of the neck.

He knew where this was going. Damn, she was good. He almost didn’t respond. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? But as soon as he opened his mouth to say something, the younger Barton chimed in from the kitchen. “Actually, yea. Barney, you want anything?” Clint’s back was to them as he opened the refrigerator. “We’ve got...leftover pizza and some wings.”

There was a hint of a smirk on Natasha’s face as she watched Barney’s frustration over not being able to answer right away, but he soon found a replacement comeback. “I’m good. I think I’m looking for something a bit more filling.”

It was a good thing that Clint wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in the living room because those two had not broken eye contact yet, and it was becoming pretty obvious what was going on in their minds. “All right,” he nodded, pulling out a box for himself. Without saying anything else, he swung his equipment onto his back and headed up the stairs. This was a pretty routine thing. Clint would disappear, sometimes with food, upstairs in his room, and they wouldn’t see him until the next day. Progress was being made, but this was still one thing that needed working on. 

Even when the door closed, the two of them stayed put, gazing intently into one another’s eyes. It was like their second game of chicken. Who would hold out the longest? 

Natasha broke the silence first, making an unnecessary ‘pop’ with her lips on the bottle as she pulled it away from her mouth. “So, did you let him win?”

“Of course,” he shot back, almost immediately. 

“So you’re a good archer, then?” she asked.

“The best.”

“Even better than  _ the  _ Hawkeye?”

This was where he lost. Barney chuckled dryly and turned his head away, the urge to roll his eyes incredibly strong. “Yes, better than  _ the  _ man in purple who flies around wearing goggles and losing all eleven of his arrows in battle because he isn’t economic with his resources.” Then he flashed a cocky grin, turning to face Natasha once more. “And I have pretty good aim too. You should let me show you sometime.”

Natasha had begun to take another sip of her drink, almost finished with it at this point, but she pulled it away from her lips just long enough to ask him quickly, “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, leaning back onto the arm of the couch, sizing her up as he leaned back and watched he. “But I’ve been told that I have unparalleled control over my arrow.”

The blonde barely choked on the rest of her drink that she’d began to finish up. But that caught her attention. She swallowed the rest of her Ice before clearing her throat and looking back at him. “Really? An archery dick joke?”

To which he immediately shot back, sitting up a bit and leaning in a little closer to her. “‘Really?’ A femme fatale play?” he tilted his head towards her outfit and scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest like a child who felt he had been played unfairly.

“Why, is it working?” The smug smile was back, and now it was her turn to lean back onto the couch, pulling her legs up onto the cushion and situating them right in front of her, bordering Barney’s space on the couch. 

He said nothing at first, keeping his arms crossed and refusing to look at her. But this was too good. His lip stuck out in a bit of a pout as he continued to look away from her, tightening his arms over his chest. It was only after a beat that he offered a quiet answer. “...Maybe.” 

Her eyebrow raised, and she pulled her legs in so that she could scoot closer to him, moving away from the couch arm to sit right next to him, only she was facing him. He refused to look at her, staring forward with his arms crossed and his lip stuck out. She tilted her head, a smirk slowly growing on her face as she leaned in ever so slightly. “Just maybe?”

You could see Barney’s shoulders square a bit as he sensed her sitting closer to him. She smelled so nice, and she looked even better. He closed his eyes and hung his head, letting out a sharp sigh. 

The smirk on her face turned into a full blown grin as she opened her mouth to deal yet another taunt, but before she could, Barney had turned and his hand was wrapped around the back of her head, and he had pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply. When Natasha didn’t tense or hesitate, he continued, shifting his body to be facing her and continued to kiss her. He leaned forward, laying her down gently beneath himself. His hands began to wander down the sides of her green silk robe. She was so small in his huge hands. He could go crazy. 

Barney’s feet awkwardly hung over the edge and off the side of the couch as he gradually positioned himself between her legs, pushing up the edge of her robe up over her waist, revealing the thin, black lace underwear she wore beneath. As his fingers brushed against the fabric, he pulled away from her long enough to look down between the two of them. Her robe had fallen open to show a matching black bustier, and he felt his breath catch. “Someone’s been busy,” he drawled softly as he looked back up at her and her half swollen lips. 

“Went out and got them special,” she whispered back, smiling with a feigned bashfulness. She was anything but. Natasha Romanov knew exactly what she was doing. “Hey, maybe we should move up to the bedroom.” The last thing she wanted was for Clint to wake up for a midnight snack and walk in on the two of them.

“That’s probably a good idea,” he nodded and grabbed her hand, practically dragging her up the stairs. 

That earned a soft laugh from Natasha who did her best to hold her robe in place until they made it to her room, and before she knew it, her back was against her closed door, and she reached behind her to make sure that the door was closed. 

Once he saw that she was content with the closed door, Barney reached around and underneath her thighs, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his hips. They both made quick work of her robe which fell to the ground like nothing, practically slipping off of her skin. 

Natasha used her leg and upper body strength to hold herself up on her own, legs wrapped securely around him. He wouldn’t even have to hold her up if he didn’t want to, which he quickly realized upon seeing her hold herself up without her hands as she pulled his shirt clean off of him without as much as holding onto him. Damn, this was going to be a good night. He took a step forward and pressed her against the door one more time, reflexively rolling his hips into hers. One of his arms was positioned horizontally above her head, and the other was placed underneath her ass as he ground into her one more time. 

The two groaned softly in sync with each other. Natasha tilted her head back against the wall, and immediately felt Barney’s lips press against the corner of her jawbone. Chills raised on her skin, and she inhaled sharply when she felt his tongue move slowly against her, coaxing a bit into his mouth as he began to suck gently on the skin, periodically grazing his teeth against her flesh. “Fuck…” Cuddling was nice and all, but this was going to drive her crazy. 

When she spoke, Barney pulled his mouth off of her neck and jerked his hips forward once more, in a much sharper movement, banging her against the door, to which they both moaned again. She could feel the bulge growing in his borrowed sweatpants. It sent a pang to her core, and she licked her lips quietly, moving a hand to press one finger against his lips. “We have to be quiet,” she whispered lowly, “Clint might hear us.” 

She was right. Perhaps standing right at the door wasn’t the best idea. He pulled away, walking over to where the bed was, and he sat. When he sat, Natasha pulled away from him and stood. Barney’s head tilted where was she going--oh. 

Before he had time to quite register what was happening, she had already pulled down his sweatpants and had begun to palm him slowly through his boxers. “Fuck, Natasha…”

This brought a smile to her lips, and she leaned her head forward, kneeling down between his legs, spreading them wide as the partial redhead clasped her wet mouth around his quickly hardening member. She let out a long, warm breath around him and pressed her tongue flat against the fabric. Natasha knew she was doing a good job when she heard Barney do his best to restrain a groan. 

His hands gripped the edge of the bed as he clenched his jaw a bit, tilting his head back ever so slightly. Barney had assumed that as soon as they got into the bedroom, it’d be fucking immediately, but this was so much better. 

Natasha angled her head so that she was able to almost get her mouth all the way around the head of his cock, pressing her tongue against the tip where she could taste the pre-cum beginning to leak through his boxers. She rested her hands on the insides of his thigh and continued to slowly mouth his quickly hardened member. She moved downwards closer to the base as she allowed herself to quickly steal a glance up at the man in front of her, eyes wide in feigned innocence. 

That killed him. He knew that if she kept this up, he’d be ruined way before they even started. As much as he enjoyed this feeling, he really wanted to get her onto that bed and fuck her silly. “Tasha…” he managed a low grunt of her name and tilted his head down to catch her eyes. Fuck. 

She knew that look. He was ready, especially if his dick pressing against his briefs was any indication. She took him into her mouth one more time and pulled off even slower before balancing back on her feet underneath her, still on her knees. Without breaking eye contact with Barney, she reached up and began to slowly pull his shorts down. He raised his hips a bit to help and stood once they came past his knees. Natasha quickly stood to match him, and shook her head. “I don’t think so.” The shorter almost-redhead rested a hand on his chest for a moment before pushing him backwards a little. 

The briefs still around his ankles caused Barney to fall back onto the bed, landing flat on his ass. Natasha took the opportunity to steady herself on his shoulders and straddle his lap. This was the only way that she was anywhere near his height, and took full advantage of that fact, locking her lips with his as she wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly ground down on him. 

Barney’s mouth fell open mid-kiss, and he let out a shuddering breath. She was still wearing the lace underwear, and the fabric rubbing against his already hyper-sensitive member was driving him crazy. “Clothes--” He managed, and she nodded, unwrapping her arms from around his neck and pulling his shirt off over his head. “No, that’s not--” She was being more than gracious, and ordinarily, he wouldn’t mind, but to be completely honest, there was something about her that gave him the sense that she always played this role. Where was the fun in that? He’d have to do something about that later, but for now… He decided he’d see how this played out. After he got some of her clothes off, of course. 

Barney grabbed Natasha’s waist and pulled her down onto his lap one more time, moaning softly as he began to kiss her again. That distracted her, but her hips kept moving against his, and he wanted her  _ on him _ , not just on him when she started grinding. One of his hands moved up to the back of the bustier, and he flicked open a few of the clasps, causing the top of the garment to fall open between them, revealing her two very beautiful breasts. He felt them against his chest before he saw them. He was making out with her after all. He was a bit busy.

Natasha almost missed his hands behind her back, but then, she felt the pressure release and realized what had happened. She pulled away ever so slightly, catching her breath as she spoke, millimeters from his lips. “Eager, are we now?” Nat let out a breathy laugh as she tilted her head and began to press slow kisses down his jawline. 

“Make fun of me all you want,” he growled lowly, making quick work of the rest of her top before throwing it onto the ground behind her, “But you’ll be the one who’s getting eager soon enough.” 

Nat scoffed and shook her head, sitting flush against his lap as she replaced her arms around his neck one more time. “Oh yea?”

Barney raised an eyebrow. Was she challenging him? He laughed softly and let his hands wander from down her back to rest each hand on either side of her ass, and he squeezed gently. It took everything in him not to compliment her, but he had a point to prove. And with that, he quickly moved his hands and ripped her underwear right apart, tossing them to the side. “Oh yea.”

“Barney!” She snapped in a hushed whisper, looking sharply back at him. “I paid good money for those.”

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, resting his hands on her ass once more, gently massaging the skin in his hands. “Something tells me you have plenty of these little outfits of yours.” He flashed his trademark grin to her, but it soon went away when he felt her sink down on him, his grin being replaced with a pair of closed eyes and a bitten lip. He groaned softly and allowed her to adjust herself on him. Not to brag, but he was a lot to take in. But of course she knew that. She’d just spent the last five minutes with his dick practically in her mouth. 

As she sank down on him fully, Natasha let out a long sigh, resting her face in the crook of his neck as she finally got comfortable. He was big. Must have had something to do with his height. 

“I know this is a little late coming,” he whispered down into her ear, using his best self control to keep from rolling up into her, “But should we be using a condom or something?”

Natasha shook her head, still in his neck. Her hips slowly began to grind into his almost as a response. “No,” she mumbled, slowly pulling away and kissing up his jaw once more, thrusting her hips and gaining momentum with each kiss until she was right next to his mouth. “I’m on the pill.” It was a lie, but ‘I’m barren’ had always been a bit of a mood killer for her, so she generally avoided it. 

Oh, okay. That was good. “Well in that case…” His grip on her ass tightened, and he inched further to the edge of the bed so that he had more room to begin moving with her. 

His fingers were going to leave bruises in the morning. She was sure of it. Along with a big dick, Barney also had massive hands, and she could feel that almost her entire ass was being held just by his two hands. Her lips found his again, and she kissed him once more as she continued to ride them. Neither of them took their mouths off of each other the whole time for fear that one of them might make too loud of a sound and get themselves caught. 

Natasha kept riding him, every once in awhile, slowing her pace when she thought he might be getting close. She’d be damned if he thought he’d be coming that easily, especially after that comment he made about being in charge. 

She was going to be the death of him. He knew it. This was how he was going to die. But to be completely honest, to die with his dick in the Black Widow was not an awful way to go. 

“Do you want to come, baby?” Pet names hadn’t really been on the table before today, but neither had sex, so she figured she’d run with it. He’d called her ‘sweetheart’ after all.

Barney inhaled sharply when she stopped kissing him and continued to thrust his hips up into hers when she slowed. He wasn’t desperate, but he was so close. He just wanted to finish. His eyes opened, and he looked into hers as he nodded.

She wasn’t going to make him beg. She’d save that for another night. So instead, Natasha sunk back down on him in one swift movement and snapped her hips forward hard, causing Barney to almost lose his balance and fall forward. It hit Natasha deep, and she inhaled sharp, wrapping her arms around his neck once more and burying her face in her arm as she rode him out. His fingers were still gripping her tightly, and with each movement, she felt the sting from his fingers, met with the pleasure shooting through her core. “Fuck… Barney--”

“Tash..” And with that, he came. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part two of sexy times :)

When Barney had walked into the bathroom to clean himself up and take a piss, Natasha sat there calmly on the edge of the bed. He had allowed her to take care of herself first, and there was a used washcloth in her hamper to prove it. But as he moved around in the bathroom, she sighed softly. She didn’t know if he’d want to go again, or if she should even ask. While that had felt amazing, it wasn’t exactly a star-seeing experience for her, and part of her wondered if Barney was a greedy lover. She’d soon find out.

Natasha lied back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her limbs all sprawled about as her breathing slowly calmed. She was always in such great shape, but that had been some of the most physical activity she’d gotten in the past two weeks. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned once. That was when she heard Barney walk out of the bathroom, back into her room. She felt him before she saw him.

He had jumped onto the bed and was now swinging one leg over her, straddling her, more or less, but lying down. His legs were between hers, and he spread them a bit so that she couldn’t close her legs or use them to get up, testing a theory he’d been saving since earlier. His theory was almost proven when he noticed an immediate blush from Natasha. He propped himself up with his elbows on either side of her shoulders. He was just that big. A small smirk appeared on his face, and he tilted his head. “What’s this? Miss Little Black Lacy Domme likes to be manhandled?”

There it was. That stupid grin of his. Natasha inhaled deeply and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sure she did. Natasha Romanov spent most of her sexual escapades as a top. It’s how she marked her targets so well. But really, underneath, she knew she didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as this. 

“You’re lying. You wanna know how I know you’re lying?” He didn’t wait for her to give him an answer. Instead, he smiled and leaned down, whispering gently in her ear. “Because I can feel how warm and wet your tight little cunt is.” He was pleased when he heard a shuddering breath come from the woman underneath her, and he felt her hips squirming slowly beneath her. Barney pulled his head away a little and looked down at her. “That, and the handcuffs were a pretty good indicator.” He then reached for the cuffs that were hung on the bar of the headboard and brought them to himself. He was propped up on one elbow, so he brought the cuffs to his mouth and took the key out of the hole with his teeth, grabbing them and once again, supporting himself with both elbows, only this time, he ha a pair of cuffs in one hand.

Damn those cuffs, and damn him. Of course he didn’t know what she actually used them for. How the hell would he know? She wasn’t just about to tell him that she sometimes had sleep dependency issues and often could not sleep without them. She just met him. But he also wasn’t wrong. She did love to be restrained like this, and if he wanted to play, she’d let him. Natasha couldn’t even begin to imagine how red her face was right now, but she had a pretty good idea that she was incredibly flushed. This whole night had taken a turn of events that she was not expecting.

Barney watched her. He could tell that this was something she wanted, but that didn’t always mean that she wanted it now or that she even wanted it with him, so he let the elbow of his free hand extend a bit and take her hand in his. He raised it above her head, holding it against the headboard, but instead of just holding her wrist, he held her hand and maintained eye contact with her as he did so. “Color?”

Thank god for sex education. No need for awkward pauses or conversations in the middle of sex. She knew exactly what he was doing, and she appreciated the fact that he was being so sensitive. “Green,” she nodded. And with that, Barney held himself up with the headboard and took his time quietly cuffing Natasha’s wrists above her head through the metal bars of the headboard. 

A wave of chills ran down her body as she attempted to pull on the cuffs. Her cheeks flushed red, and she let out an involuntary sigh, her chest pressed gently against Barney’s. “Have you done this before?” She figured that talking might distract him from the fact that she was practically a red hot tomato right now. 

It was a valiant effort, but he noticed immediately and grinned smugly down at her. Once her wrists were secure, Barney rested his elbows on either side of her once more and leaned down, pressing a deep kiss to her lips. He moved slow, using the opportunity to memorize the way her lips felt against his. She had beautiful lips. They were as thick as his were wide, soft as his were strong. It just felt right. Barney didn’t know what coming home felt like, but this was the closest he could imagine it to being like. When he started feeling that way, he didn’t know.

Maybe it was the first time he saw her cry, the first time he felt the need to be there and to take care of her. He didn’t know why he felt that need. It was even more of a shock when he had begun to care about her, but he couldn’t think about that right now. This wasn’t supposed to be about emotions. This was about them both being able to heal, and maybe a little bit of kinky sex was exactly what the two of them needed. Almost as if she was reading his mind, he felt a bite in his bottom lip, and he inhaled sharply, slowly pulling away as he looked down at her with a cocky, shocked look. “Well aren’t you a feisty one?”  
“You didn’t answer my question,” she quipped, shooting back an equally smug smirk.

Barney didn’t respond at first. Instead he secured his legs on either inside of hers, spreading them wide and hooking his ankles under hers so that she was completely vulnerable to him. Once she was pinned, he rolled his hips down into hers and smiled when she let out a rugged sigh. It was working. He’d spent the entire time he’d known her looking for new ways to slowly take this intriguing woman apart. Now he’d struck gold. Barney shifted on the bed a bit and placed his lips on the corner of her jaw, pressing slow, wet, open mouthed kisses to the soft skin there. Every once in a while, he’d hear the  _ clink  _ of the cuffs, and his lips would curl into a small smile.

Very gradually, he moved his mouth away from her jaw and down her neck to pause for a moment just below her collar bones. As he moved downwards, he shifted himself, unhooking from her legs to give himself room enough to move down and hover right above her chest. A boyish grin flashed across his face as he looked down at the two wonderful breasts that were inches from his face. He looked like a child on Christmas. Natasha looked down at him, a wave of heat flowering in her lower abdomen as she noted the way he looked at her, with hunger in his eyes.

Before she could say anything, one mouth was on her right nipple, and his tongue was out, massaging slow circles around the flesh until he felt the nipple raise between his lips. It was then that he became aware of just how much noise Natasha was making. This caused his eyebrows to raise, and he looked up at her, pulling his mouth off of her breast with an obscene  _ pop.  _ Was the Natasha Romanov,  _ the  _ Black Widow, loud during sex? 

“You know, you’re going to have to cut that out. We’ve already talked about getting caught, and I can’t use my mouth to keep you quiet if it’s already busy down here,” he smiled up to her. Natasha responded simply with an exaggerated groan her head falling back between her arms as she shifted wantingly beneath him. That gave him an idea. He tilted his head back down and blew a cool burst of air over the wet and sensitive patch of skin before standing off of the bed and leaning down to pick up the pair of underwear that had been discarded earlier. Rounding the bed, he stood next to her and leaned down on the mattress, just inches from her face. “Now, are you going to be a good little girl? Or am I going to have to use this?”

Nat lifted her head up from between her arms, her eyes falling on the wad of fabric between his fingers. Another wave of heat spread over her, and she bit down on both of her lips, subconsciously bringing her legs together and putting pressure on the apex of her thighs. This was too much, but not enough all at the same time. 

“I don’t hear much of an answer,” he chided, but then he saw what she was doing, and with his free hand, he reached out for her ankle, pulling it away from her other leg so that she couldn’t get any sort of friction unless he allowed it. Thank god for his long arms. “Uh uh…” Barney shook his head and tightened the wad in his fingers. “I don’t think you can be trusted. Not anymore.” And with that, he got back onto the bed, situating himself between her legs once more as he pressed his fingers into the sides of her mouth, forcing her jaw open. He paused for a moment, giving her the opportunity to say ‘red’ if she wanted to stop, but she said nothing, so in the underwear went. Once they were inside her mouth, he pressed a finger inside just to make sure they were secure, and he smiled. “That’s better.”

Natasha gazed up at Barney with wide eyes and let out a soft whimper that was muffled by the fabric in her mouth. Without much prompting, she panted softly through her nose and shifted beneath him. Her face was red as she was warm. Barney grinned down at her and began once more planting slow, open mouthed kisses down her chest, trailing to just above her thighs. At this point, he was at the edge of the bed. So Barney got off of the mattress and kneeled on the ground at her feet. Reaching forward, he pulled her legs to him and leaned forward with his elbows propped up on the bed between her legs. 

Barney pressed a finger to where her slit was and drew it up slowly, pressing it into her clit. “Oh, Tasha… I’ve barely touched you yet and you’re so wet for me.” He situated his arms so that they held her legs open and kept her from being able to move them closed. She was fully exposed to him and there was nothing she could do about it. When he pulled his finger away, he saw her folds tense with want. She wanted him and he was torturing her. 

When she felt his finger, her head fell back between her arms and she reflexively moved her hips up into his touch, but it was gone just as soon as it was there. She mumbled something that sounded like a ‘please,’ but you wouldn’t be able to tell though the gag. Barney moved his fingers to gently stroke the inside of her thighs with touches as light as a butterfly. She was sensitive to each movement. Under his fingers, he could feel the chill bumps raising. Her head was facing away from him, and her pull on the cuffs was tight. 

He moved his head down, just inches away from her heat and blew a gentle stream of air. This caused Natasha to yank on the cuffs once more, and arch her back as she let out a broken sigh. That wasn’t what she wanted, and it was driving her insane. Her clit had already become so swollen, and he’d barely touched her yet. Nat bit down on the fabric and shifted her hips on the bed. She couldn’t move very much since Barney was holding her down, but she was desperate. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, or how he had done this to her, but she was dying for him, for his touch.

Barney smiled. He’d tormented her enough. Leaning his head forward, he pressed his mouth gently against her soft, warm lips. She smelled amazing, like a fruit ripe and ready for his taking. He kissed the folds over her clit gently, barely letting the tip of his tongue graze over the spot as he pulled his head away ever so slightly to watch her reaction. 

The assassin let out an exasperated sigh and just watched the ceiling. She didn't know when she had become a writhing mess beneath him, but she had. Her breath hitched softly when she finally felt him on her, and she relaxed into the bed. Her arms loosened above her and she tilted her hips up ever so slightly, silently asking for more. 

Barney wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer once more, cupping his hands beneath her ass to give him better access as he finally pressed his tongue against her once more, tensing it as he licked a strip up against where she was most sensitive. Natasha shuddered, her legs twitching in his arms as he continued to pleasure her with his tongue. After a few slow licks, he knew that she was getting there, but she needed more. He shifted his arms beneath her and moved one hand to come around her leg. Barney quietly slipped two fingers into his own mouth, making sure they were properly prepared before he gently slipped them into her. 

Natasha had groaned softly, lifting her head to see why on earth he had pulled his mouth off of her, but before she could find out, she felt his fingers inside of her and she immediately tensed, moaning into the fabric in her mouth. Her head fell back as she adjusted a bit. His fingers weren’t nearly as big as his dick, but this still felt amazing. All she needed now was for him to move. 

He pulled her closer again with his arm underneath her, and he slowly began to move his fingers in and out of her. He could tell that she loved it from the way that she responded to him. She couldn’t say a word, but soon, she was pulling away from the bed as if she was gravitating towards him. She wanted him so badly, but she couldn’t move. Anything she got was only because he chose to give it to her. Natasha let out a soft whimper as she keened her hips into his hands once more. It felt amazing, but it just was not enough.

Once satisfied that she was ready, Barney added a third finger and began to hook them as he drew them out each time, fingering her with a sort of “come here” motion. This earned a shocked gasp from Natasha who yanked on the cuffs. He looked up at her and could see her fists. They were white, but not because of the cuffs but because of how tightly they were clenched. She was so close. All he had to do was touch her. Her eyes were screwed so tightly shut that he did not see him lean down again. When his lips touched hers, she had to hold in the urge to yell. Barney wasted no time in starting where he had left off. His tongue moved up against her a few times before he finally latched his mouth onto the nub of nerves and held them there between his lips, moving his tongue quickly against her as he brought her to the edge with his fingers.

Natasha’s breath had picked up and she pulled against the cuffs as her back arched from off of the bed. She was sputtering behind the gag, and she could hear her heart in her ears. Her legs shifted gently on the bed as her toes curled, but above her thighs, she couldn’t move an inch. She could feel it, she was so close. Her back arched once more as she felt Barney flick his tongue against her once more at the same time as he curled his fingers slowly against her g-spot. And that did her in. All the tension in her body left in a second as she fell back into the bed, moaning softly as her cunt spasmed around his fingers, her release washing over her (and his fingers) as she sat there, eyes beginning to glaze over. 

He could feel the tension leave her body, and he smiled, pulling his face away and wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand as he used his fingers to pull her through the last bit of her aftershock until he sensed she was done. He stood quietly and looked down at Natasha who looked truly fucked. Her hair was a mess, and her entire body was flushed. He looked into her eyes which were not quite lucid yet, and he smirked to himself. He’d done a good job.

Barney turned to the bathroom to wash himself up once more before returning to lie down next to Natasha. She was still dropping a bit, so he reached up and undid her cuffs and pulled the gag out of her mouth. He dropped both on the ground behind him before turning to her once more. He rested a hand on her stomach and gently stroked her back and forth, anchoring her and letting her know he was here. 

Natasha swallowed dryly and blinked a few times, looking up at Barney. There were no words. She didn’t quite know what to do. Thank him? Let him know that this was probably the best sex she’d had in a long time? Tell him this was the most normal she’d felt since the incident? None of that seemed right, but he was inches from her face, and she wanted to kiss him. So she did. Leaning up, Natasha pressed a soft kiss to his lips as she closed her eyes. When she pulled away, she stared into his eyes for a moment, and she felt it. Damn, was she in for it. 

“What was that for?” he drawled lowly, watching Nat as she lied back down on the bed. His head was propped up on his elbow as he looked down at her.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted to.”

He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head before he settled down into the bed on his back. “All right.” Once he was down, he wrapped an arm around her. They’d already settled on cuddling, now fucking. No one said the two had to be mutually exclusive. And she seemed to think so too because as soon as he’d extended his arm, she had turned an curled up right next to him, arm around his waist with her head on his chest. He didn’t know what he was doing, but this felt right. He could get used to this. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint finds out about sexy times, and Natasha shoots things

Natasha opened her eyes the next morning. Her hand was on Barney’s chest, and she was curled up under his arm, her legs wrapped around his. She wasn’t wearing anything, but no part of her was shocked. She remembered everything from the night before, and it was amazing. Nat took a deep breath and moved closer to him--if that was even possible. She let her eyes fall closed once more as she adjusted her head to rest back on his chest. She was tiny and he was huge. She could practically use him as a raft if she wanted to. But she’d just settle for lying here with him. That felt good for now. 

Barney didn't move even as Natasha did. He laid there silent and asleep as she positions herself to her comfort, practically a dead log on the bed. Nothing really could wake him up from his slumber… well, almost nothing.

Having been recuperating on his own and trying to put up a brave face in front of his best friend and brother, Clint had been floating around looking like a ghost whose only purpose was to pretend he was still alive. He had been going around doing as normal as things could get for himself; eating, sleeping, watching TV, going out to mend the lawn. But of course, both Barney and Natasha knew Clint was just going through the motions.

So right now, Clint had a frozen pack of hash browns in his hand and was coming into Natasha's room to ask about the expiration date that seemed to have long since past. Only he was walking into a whole different conversation right here.

“What the-...”

Natasha heard someone coming, and there was really only one other person in the house, so she knew exactly who it was. There was no couch backing for her to jump off of this time, and it wasn’t like she had clothes on like before, so she simply braced herself for the worst, poking Barney under the sheet to wake him up. When the door opened, she looked up at Clint and sat up a bit, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. “Clint…”

“No, no, no…” Clint shook his head as he sees both Natasha and Barney looking to him by now. The redhead had just started waking up and could see nothing but the look of betrayal on Clint's face.

“Clint?” Barney sat up, rubbing his eyes as he watched the blonde man leave the room. “Shit…”

Natasha groaned softly and watched Clint leave. Her stomach sunk and she immediately reached for her robe, using her fingers to wrap it around herself with speed that could only come from years of assembling and disassembling various weapons. Once it was tied, she hurried down the stairs, missing multiple steps until she finally landed on the floor in the kitchen. “Clint?”

The blonde man had been in the kitchen, cutting the hash brown pack open with a butterfly knife that was evidently not meant for cooking. He refused to react to his name being called over and again, just keeping his gaze down and his fingers on the frozen potatoes.

“ _ Clint. _ ” Natasha sighed softly before walking further into the kitchen, circumnavigating the island to stand right behind him. Her arms crossed over her chest, and she cleared her throat quietly, not necessarily to get his attention, but because she was nervous and needed to try and get herself to make  _ any  _ sound. “Clint, look at me.”

“What for?” He said, voice low and tone dry. He wasn't trying to ask an actual question that warrants an actual answer, he didn't quite care what she thought anymore. He just didn't feel like he should try to have this conversation and it really shows.

Barney had put on his clothes, walking down the stairs and following Natasha into the kitchen. He wasn't standing anywhere remotely close to the other two, but he was present and was currently leaning on the door frame of the open kitchen.

She frowned. There wasn’t really an answer. She just wanted to talk to him. She didn’t want him to be angry or feel that she had betrayed him. She was supposed to be helping  _ him,  _ and yet, she helped herself, and everything had gone to shit. Nat sighed softly and hung her shoulders a bit. “Because you’re upset, and we should talk about this.”

“And what is  _ this _ ?” He asks, dropping the frozen food on the sink counter and turning to finally face Natasha. Had Clint only seen her at that moment, his rage wouldn't have gone all the way up. It was the mere look of Barney's face and presence that made the blonde archer angrier. 

Natasha saw the look on Clint’s face, not realizing Barney was in the room. Under usual circumstances, she would have heard him coming, but she was so focused on the fact that she might have fucked something up with her best friend to pay attention to much else. So when she saw the look he was giving, her face lost all color. Nat swallowed hard and looked down at the ground. How could she have been so fucking stupid? She knew better. Things were perfectly fine when she had just stayed on autopilot and focused on caring for Clint. Now things were fucked. Literally. “Clint, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“No, of course you wouldn't have told me,” he said, gritting his teeth as he looked at the two of them standing in front of him. “You knew I wouldn't have approved of it. Let me guess why… oh it's not like I told you one thing not to do and you went ahead and done it anyway.”

“Clint, stop it,” Barney said, his tone a little warning but he still kept his cool on this matter. “We are all adults here. Let's discuss it like adults.”

“Approve?” her voice had a hint of incredulity in it, but she was trying so hard to keep her tone soft. She didn’t want to escalate the situation by seeming too angry, but what he was saying, and how he was looking at her was also making her want to crawl into a hole and die. “Clint, you’re not my--” Then she heard Barney’s voice, and it made some more sense. Her eyes closed, and she exhaled sharply without turning to face him. “Clint…” She really didn’t know what to say to him that would assure him that this meant nothing without also offending Barney. She’d royally fucked up this one. “I’m still your friend. That’s not changing.”

“No, everything's changed. Natasha,” the emphasis he puts on the pronunciation of her name was his way of isolating himself from the situation and how their friendship was changing. At least, it was in his opinion. “I thought you two came here for me. I thought you two were here to support me. I'm the one who's lost everything and then you two had to come here… pretend like you give two shits about what I'm going through… only to really show your true colours!”

“Clint, you know that's not fair,” Barney spoke again. “We came here to give you support. You're being immature and unfair right now.”

“Yeah, of course. I'm the immature one, I'm the unfair one,” Clint snapped back at his brother. “I never asked you to come here, Barney. I never asked you to come back into my life. In fact, I remember specifically for you to stay the fuck away. I had one person left in my life, I only have my best friend and now you've taken that away too. Just like you take everything away from me because you can't stand seeing me having one good thing in my life!”

“Can you even hear yourself right now? You think I came here to ruin your life? I can't believe you would be  _ that _ selfish!” Barney, just like anybody else, too, had his own limits when it came to patience and tolerance. His brother was obviously starting to spout nonsense in his own delusional point of view and Barney couldn't help but to call him out on it, even though really Clint was spiralling into a world of madness.

Nat should stay. She should stay and try and figure this out. She should try and help and explain to Clint what had actually happened, but hearing him speak of their friendship with such finality made her want to break down and cry. She’d already lost half of her family. She couldn’t handle losing him too. Fight or flight was beginning to kick in, and she looked over to the door. She could leave. He was so convinced that they were over anyways. But she needed him, and she needed them both to 

“Stop yelling. Both of you.” She spoke firmly, but her voice was not raised, simply steady. “Clint, you’re my best friend and the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Did she really feel like laying it on heavy with him after he’d said some pretty hurtful things? No. But at this point, it was her only option left unless she did actually walk through that door. “I wouldn’t be here without you. I wouldn’t have gotten this family without you.”

She looked back over her shoulder to check and see that Barney wasn’t making any stupid faces or anything before turning back to Clint and continuing. “But I lost people too, and you’re really not being fair right now.” It was all coming out now. She’d been holding it in for weeks, and now it was finally coming out. She hated it, but Barney had really gotten her to see that this was not healthy, and now she was suffering the consequences. “I’ve spent the last two weeks taking care of you, and I don’t regret it at all. You needed it, and that’s fine.” Now she paused, shaking her head. “But I was ignoring my own needs. I didn’t give myself the chance to even mourn them. Nor did you once ask me if I was okay.”

Natasha scratched the back of her neck. “I don’t resent you for it. And it’s not just your fault. I played it off well. I always do. But you should know me well enough to know that I was  _ not okay. _ ” Her voice broke off, and she closed her eyes, hanging her head with her hand on the back of her neck. She drew in a long breath through her nose, composing herself before she continued again. “Barney was here for less than a day and was the first person in these last two weeks who even checked in to make sure that I was okay. I needed that, and he was the only person who was going to give it to me.” Her lips pursed for a moment as she turned to look at Barney, still speaking to Clint as she directed her eyes at the older Barton. “He may not have been the perfect brother, but he’s trying now, and he’s been a better friend to you in this than I have.” She then turned to look back at Clint. “I shouldn’t have coddled you. I’m sorry for that, but I’m hurting too, damnit, and if you want to end our friendship because someone is actually helping me heal, then you’re not the person I became friends with over a decade ago.” She frowned and she shook her head, trying to ignore the tears that were clearly forming in her eyes. 

She wants to run. She should run, but she can’t.

Natasha just sniffled once and walked past Clint to the refrigerator. She was hungry. As she opened the door, a tear fell, but her back was to them, so it didn’t matter. She pulled out the pizza box and began to eat a slice, closing the door behind her.

Clint and Barney had been staring at each other without breaking eye contact even as Natasha bore her heart wide open. It was just that both of them could not stand down and the words she said was only making Clint feel more like she was blaming him for everything. “Great,” the blonde Barton finally spoke. “So it's my fault.”

Barney simply rolled his eyes in exasperation and ran a hand down his own face, not knowing how else to react to this. They were no longer children and yet Clint still felt strongly for everything that Barney had done when they were kids.

That was it. Natasha’s jaw clenched, and another tear fell. Screw eating. She was furious. “It’s  _ sex.  _ It’s no one’s  _ fault. _ ” And with that, she shook her head, laughing breathily to keep from breaking down right then and there, and threw the pizza hard into the sink, pushing past him again. “Fuck you, Clint Barton.” He wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t helping. She needed to get out. Without saying another word, she stormed up the steps and slammed the door to her room behind her. If he wanted to act like a child, she could do that too. 

They stared at each other for a little longer before Barney finally shook his head and left the place. He walked right out of the door and walked to the middle of the lawn, he needed some air. For a moment there, Barney swears he could see an exit right there. His truck was just sitting at the side, anytime he wanted he could leave. But he didn't. He didn't want to, not like this.

Natasha was right though. It was just sex. What the hell was the big deal?

Once inside her room, Natasha let out a short yell. She walked over to one of the pillows on the bed and punched it twice. The tears continued to fall when she stopped, and she slid to the ground with her back leaned against the bed. Her arms curled around the pillow that she held between her chest and her legs. It was bad enough that Clint was furious with her. But now she felt like it was her fault too. If only she’d kept away. 

She could sit there and cry, or she could do something. She didn’t know what, but she needed to do something to take her mind off of what had just happened. Wiping her face, Natasha pulled on some actual clothes and rummaged not very deep into her bag to find her handgun. She stuffed it securely in the back of her pants and grabbed a baseball cap from off of the vanity. Nat pulled it down over her eyes and walked down the stairs and out the front door without so much as acknowledging anyone in the room. She walked out to the side of the yard and opened the combination lock to the shed. 

Bingo. 

Inside she found an array of targets and shotguns and a makeshift ground skeet trap that the Bartons had fixed up for themselves. Once inside, she dragged a few of the metal painted target sheets out and set the skeet trap a few meters away. It was all very quaint and homemade. Perhaps she would have focused on that more if she wasn’t so pissed. She walked back to the shed and set her handgun on the table. She’d come back for it later. Right now she was more interested in the shotguns. Grabbing one, she checked to make sure that it was loaded, and grabbed an extra case of shells just in case she ran out. 

When she ran out. 

The skeet trap was on a timer. Clint had made it so. When the kids were little, Laura was busy with them, and he couldn’t very well set off his own targets. So he’d MacGuyver’d the shit out of his little invention. Natasha walked over to the trap and pressed the button, taking a quick jog over to where she needed to be when it went off. The first disc shot out, and immediately, gunfire followed. 

Her aiming was great, she was releasing her tension in a way that was all too familiar. Barney had been taking his long well deserved walk for a while now, but he came right around the shed as if he knew Natasha would be there. He stood around to watch as she worked, silent as if he was part of the wall.

All five discs shot, and she nailed each. There was a lull in the timer that was meant to give whoever was using it the chance to reload, so she dropped to one knee and began to fill the shotgun back up. Once finished, she knocked it back and pressed the familiar wood shape to the inside of her arm. She drew in one deep breath and simply waited for the sound of air release and the sight of the disc before bringing the gun to her face and trailing it through the sky, shooting the clay into a bunch of tiny pieces. The next four were no different, and after they were finished, the trap quieted. She’d need to fill it up again if she wanted to keep using it. Natasha turned to face the shed, expecting to go get more discs, but instead she saw Barney. Her shoulders sunk a bit, and she sighed, continuing to the shed without saying anything. 

He watched her as she left and then walked along with her. He kept just a few steps behind her, not knowing how else to start a conversation. He didn't want to do this more than she did, but he had to be honest somehow. Clint was overreacting.

She wasn’t angry at Barney, but she really had nothing to say. They’d both heard her piece, and right now she was just hurting. As she walked into the shed, she kept the door open, a sign that he’d hopefully pick up on that she wasn’t shutting him out. “Want to join?” Without turning to look at him, she nodded to the poorly lit back of the shed where there were at least five nice compound bows and some nice wooden ones. 

“If there's space for one more,” he said, following her and letting out a deep sigh. He walked to the nearest bow, picking it up and eyeing the make. It was nice and weighted, just as heavy as what he was used to. He stretched lightly with the bow in hand and nodded once in approval. “Haven't used one of these in a while.”

“Yea, there’s room,” she nodded. Natasha watched him as he handled the weapon. If she wasn’t so upset right now, she might have even been turned on at the sight of it, but she couldn’t shake the pit in her stomach. She wanted to talk to Clint, but he wasn’t being reasonable, and she knew that would just frustrate her, so she was out here instead. “Arrows are in the cabinet underneath.”

He nods, acknowledging what she had just said before going to get the arrows he would be needing. Then he started to walk back along with her, not needing to say much. They both simply needed to shoot at shit and just get all the anger and frustrations out of themselves.

Once he got all of his equipment, she picked up the dusty box of clay discs and hoisted them on her hip. She propped the door open with her foot and held it open for the two of them to get out. 

Walking right behind her, he held the door open once she had unlocked it for the both of them. “Go on,” he tells her to let her know she was right behind him.

But she couldn’t move. Once the door opened, her eyes immediately fell on the image of Clint, throwing two duffel bags and his arrow case into the back of his truck. Her heart sank, and she felt her knees go weak. It took everything in her not to drop the discs. Her shoulders tensed, and she frowned, trying desperately not to start crying again. She couldn’t. She didn’t have it in her. And if Clint was leaving, he didn’t deserve her tears. 

It was easier to be angry than sad. 

Natasha set down the box of discs and took off in a sprint across the yard to where his truck was. He couldn’t leave. 

Barney hardly saw Clint and the truck he was loading, not until he saw Natasha's tensed reaction and he too looked over that way. He too set the weapons he had carried down and ran towards the blonde Barton, curiosity just filling him up. “Where are you going?” he asks, unable to stop himself. All the unspoken troubles was enough, he had to find out exactly what was going through that demented head of his brother's.

Natasha could hardly make any sound as she made it to the truck, gripping the back of the bed. Her throat was tense, and she just wanted to scream. He couldn’t be leaving. “Clint…” She shook her head and held on to the truck tightly as if he couldn’t leave if she didn’t let go. “Please just stay.”

Clint didn't seem interested to answer either of them, just loading his things and then tossing a duffel bag into the backseat.

“God damn it, Clint, what the hell are you thinking?” Barney finally snaps. He walked right around the truck and grabbed the blonde archer by the shoulder.

“Barney, no.” That didn’t seem like it was going to end well. She quickly hopped away from the back of the car and bolted over to where the other two were. Nat reaches for Barney’s wrist and pulled him as close to her as she could, trying to get him to realize that’d likely only cause Clint to react. Her eyes were red as she looked up at Clint, silently pleading with him to say something. 

Natasha was right, it only caused Clint to turn and grab at Barney as well. The only thing separating them both from getting into a brawl right now was the fact that Natasha was literally between them both. “You gonna punch me? What's stopping you? It's stupidity day, isn't it? Come on and make my day, punk!” Barney really had no business talking all that crap but he was getting short tempered with his brother by now.

She had half a mind to punch Barney herself, but she wasn’t going to—not yet at least. Her jaw clenched, and she stuck an arm between the two, raising it up in a sharp motion to get at least one set of a hand of each of theirs off of each other. Seeing an in, she literally jumped between them, her face to Clint and her back to Barney, and carefully stuck her right leg between and around one of Clint’s, planting her left leg to keep her upright. Her left hand was behind her, pushing Barney away, and her right hand was on Clint’s chest, pressing a precarious amount of pressure that unless he readjusted and stopped fighting Barney, he’d fall flat backwards on his ass. “Clint.”

They both shrugged her off and took a step back, even if involuntarily. She knew what to do and even if they were both at least a foot taller than her, she could easily take them down by using their weight against them.

“There's no point in staying around and pretending to be sad anymore. There is no point in grieving when obviously I am the only one doing that. The rest of the world wants to move on so quickly, the two of you want to move on quickly. Then so be it,” Clint growled angrily at them.

She stood there, tense, as she watched the two back away. Her stance was still tense until she watched for a moment to make sure no one jumped at the other once she let her guard down. “Clint, you’re not thinking rationally.” Natasha finally relaxed her stance a bit to stand normally. “You know me, Clint. Do I seem like I’m at  _ all  _ ready to move on?” It took everything in her not to start crying and yell at him for being insensitive. Because that’s what it was. Clint Barton was the only person who had lost someone. God forbid she try and make herself feel a little better. “If I look even the slightest bit okay, then I’m doing a much better job pretending than I give myself credit for, or you just don’t know me as well as I thought you did.” Her voice wavered a bit at that last part, so she went quiet, clenching her first and regaining her composure. Her voice lowered, barely above a whisper.  “I needed the company. I needed it in a way I could never ask you to give it to me, especially not after what you lost.

“You’re angry, and I understand that. But you shouldn’t make a decision like this when you’re mad. Who’s going to take care of the farm?”

“The farm is what you wanna care about? I was here the whole time, Natasha. You're acting as if I locked myself away in the room and you had to toss me food from under my door!” Clint said, staring at Natasha with tears in his eyes, yet anger was evident in them. “You could have talked to me. You could have spoken to me. What happened to bearing our hearts? What happened to grieving together? It looks like you were right… I don't know you as well as I thought I did. You're just feeding me words, giving me empty hope. Isn't it?”

“You're not being fair,” Barney said. “Did you see yourself in the mirror recently? Before you ask her all that, why aren't you asking yourself that exact same question? She has to take care of you while you act like you're the only one who lost everything, and you can't even stop to ask her one question? You bastard, you think the world still revolves around you. Don't you?”

“Don't talk to me, why are you even here in the first place? Huh?”

“Clint, the farm is literally the least of my concerns right now. You’re just literally  _ not listening to me _ . I thought maybe some fucking logic would work.” As he spoke, she knew that what he was saying probably felt true to him, but it was not the case. She’d been there during his worst. He barely even noticed how shitty he was and how little he was taking care of himself. That’s why she was there. That’s why she felt that she had to be strong. He was hardly trying. When he said that he didn’t know her, her eyes finally gave in, and she felt the first two tears fall. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t handle this  _ right now _ , out of all the times she could be losing Clint. 

This was the one person who’d stuck up for her in everything and never stopped vouching for her. He knew her better than anyone and had been the closest thing to family she’d ever had. Now he was looking at her as if he had no clue who she was, and it was more than she could handle. There were no words. Barney had pretty much said them all. But on top of that, she could hardly stand to look at Clint anymore. This was ripping the bandage off way too slowly. He wasn’t listening to her. He wanted to leave, and nothing she could say would convince him otherwise. She opened her mouth to try and say something, but instead, he was met with a short gasp as her throat spasmed in an attempt to let out a sob that she’d be damned if she let free in front of him. 

Instead of saying anything else, she simply turned a bit to look at Barney, looking like a puppy who’d just been left on the side of the road. She couldn’t talk to him. She couldn’t say a word. 

Barney knew he should really just sock Clint in the face for what he had said, but for now he has to be the voice of reason. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to calm himself down as he put a hand on Natasha's back and pulling her to his chest.

“Look, we're all really upset right now. We just need to talk this over,” Barney finally said, looking back at Clint who had turned away to stare into the distance. “Leaving is not the answer. Clint we are both here for you, how is it fair for us if we just happened to find comfort in each other in the meantime? We are all at loss here.”

Feeling Barney pull her back into his chest, she let her eyes close for a moment, causing more tears to streak down her cheeks. Barney was by no means Clint, but knowing that when Clint did leave, that she wouldn’t be totally alone, was at least somewhat comforting. He was also being way more eloquent than she was managing right this second, which was amazing considering that Natasha had always had a way with words. Perhaps she was just too emotionally invested in this. She wasn’t emotionally invested in much, so it made sense that when she was, her words didn’t always work. Natasha just focused on breathing. Breathing and the feeling of Barney anchoring her there. 

It was just an action to show his care and concern for Natasha, they all knew that. But seeing Barney holding her like that made Clint feel the assurance of his decision being the best one. He turned away and shook his head, getting into the truck without saying another word.

Natasha frowned as she watched Clint get into the truck. There was nothing she could do to keep him there. She really was losing him too. Her legs felt weak, and she couldn’t stand upright anymore. As Clint started up the car, Natasha squatted onto the ground. Her knees were still in the air, but she needed to lower her center of gravity or she would fall over from how hard this was hitting her. Nat’s head hung, and she refused to look up at Clint leaving as she propped her elbows on her knees, staring at the ground and trying to fight off the tears. 

Clint really left nothing but dust and tears. It was painful for Natasha and yet he couldn’t care less. When the truck finally drove away and out of sight, Barney went to make himself level with her, placing a hand on her shoulder gently. He didn't want to say something that could make things worse, but a part of him felt like he should apologize. All this was his doing after all.

Nat stared silently at the ground. She wanted to roll over and just cry for hours. What had she done? The tears were definitely there, but she just held her hand over her mouth as her shoulders shook, holding in the sobs she wanted so desperately to let out. This was her fault. If only she’d been there for him. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff bc god, this admin needed it. (myownremorse)

Days had passed since Clint left the house. Natasha and Barney had been staying in the farmhouse for the sole purpose of being there in case the archer returned from a short sulk. Barney felt it most important actually to be here. Clint had the idea that he was bound to be left behind no matter what he does, Barney is going to prove him wrong.

As the morning light begins to flood the house from the windows, the two had started waking up and were going to start their day as usual. Today's Natasha's turn to make breakfast, Barney was going to freshen up and then head out to fix the shed's broken wooden walls.

After cleaning up and putting on a shirt with some old jeans, Barney finally descended the stairs and headed to the kitchen to try and find Natasha. “Morning,” he greets her with a smile.

“Morning.” Natasha nodded slightly to him without turning as she laid another piece of french toast onto the sizzling pan. She’d been up for hours. She was a bit worse for wear at this point. She hadn’t been sleeping much recently. Natasha had also stopped keeping up with her dye job and her dark roots were beginning to show. She felt bad. The last thing she wanted to do was become another Clint to Barney and become a depressing burden, but now that Clint wasn’t around, there was no one that made her want to keep herself held together, and on top of that, he was just gone. 

There was a pile of freshly made french toast on top of a paper-towel-covered plate on the counter. She’d woken up hours ago and stress cleaned the house for the fifth time. This time she decided to deep clean the grout in the backsplash of the kitchen. The house had to be perfect if Clint came back, right?

She yawned to herself and lifted the last piece out of the pan with a spatula. Piling it on top of the rest, she turned and carried the plate over to the kitchen table. There was a pitcher of orange juice in the middle of the table and a bowl of about ten orange peels by the sink that were to be taken out to compost later. That had been the last few days for Natasha. Meaningless tedious tasks to keep herself busy. Making a surplus of orange juice was just one of the many things on that list. 

“How’s the shed looking?” Plates and utensils were already set as well as glasses. She’d had plenty of time on her hands and had clearly planned ahead. 

Both of them should really be calling themselves out for what it was, they were pretending to be alright. They were pretending like nothing was wrong and just going through the motions. Today is not going to be anything different.

“I'm going to check if the walls are ready to be put up later, if I have the time I will probably paint it up,” he said. “Do you want to help me?”

Natasha finally sat at the table and began to pour herself a glass of orange juice. “Yea, I love painting.” She wasn’t lying. It was always something very satisfying to her. There weren’t many artistic things that she could do other than dancing--not that wall painting was necessarily artistic--but she really enjoyed the feeling of covering something with paint. This wouldn’t make her feel one hundred percent better, but this might make this day a little more bearable. “You bought the paint yet?”

“I saw some paint in the shed, but I think I'll have to go out and get some more. We can go together after breakfast,” he said, sitting down and reaching for the toast. “This is delicious.”

“Thanks,” she replied, managing a faint smile as she took a sip from her orange juice. “I could teach you how to make it sometime.” Their breakfasts on Barney’s days had mostly consisted of an eggs only diet, which wasn’t horrible. It certainly explained where all that protein went, into his muscles, but Natasha got bored of eggs after a while. It’s a miracle this guy has even been able to live on his own for that long. “What color are you thinking for the shed?”

“I don't know yet. But I'm thinking maybe… pink,” he said, sipping his orange juice as he waits for her reaction.

Those breakfast eggs and bacon were the best, how could she not like them? He loves them.

Her eyebrows went way up and she tilted her head a bit, quickly swallowing her orange juice. “You said pink? As in… red plus white pink?” That was quite a choice, one she wasn’t all too sure where it was coming from. 

He just grinned to her and then nodded. “It would be so horrendous that the first thing you see when coming down the driveway would be that monstrosity,” he laughs.

“That certainly is one way to get back at him,” she scoffed softly to herself as she served herself a piece of toast and began to cut it. She figured he was just trying to lighten the mood, and she should really be more receptive of that, but it was still hard. She missed him, and every day he spent gone was that much more convincing to Natasha that he was not coming back. 

He knew sarcasm when he encounters one. She was upset and his jokes weren't really met the way it should be, but he wasn't offended really because it wasn't going to stop him from making more stupid jokes.

“Do you think purple would be better?” He wonders, sipping his juice as he chews on his toast. “Maybe we could add glitter to it. It will shine under the sun.”

This time she did smile a little. “Purple would be perfect. Maybe we can paint a giant target on the side. Makeup for all the ones I shot up,” she laughed softly, shaking her head as she finished up her piece of toast. Even though she laughed, there was a hint of resigned sadness there. At this point, all she could do was try to make fun of the situation. She cleared her throat and grabbed another piece of toast, not quite looking him in the eyes as she spoke. “So...how are you?”

He agreed at that and nodded, eating another piece of toast. He practically inhaled those things when Natasha made them. What could he say? They were simply delicious. As he chews, he could see her moving to look at him. This time, he wasn't quite looking at her.

The question caught him off guard, but he could manage just processing it and finding the right answer. He could lie, but he felt like he didn't have to. Not with her.

“I'm not the one who's lost so much,” he said, looking to her finally. “How are you?”

That wasn’t exactly an answer to her question though. But Natasha knew what he meant. He was doing as well as could be expected. They both were. He just seemed to be handling it a little better than her. Natasha stroked her index finger up and down the cool outside of her glass, saying nothing for a moment as she stared at the mark she made in the condensation. “I’ll be okay, I suppose. I guess it’s just hitting me that he’s actually gone.”

“Hey,” Barney calls out to her, reaching out and touching her hand. “He’s just taking a break. He isn't dead or anything. Alright? He will come back, and if he doesn't, we'll find him.”

Nat’s lips pursed, and she let out a sharp sigh through her nose, staring down at his hand touching hers. She wished he would just hold it. It would be the most sure thing in her life right now. Everything felt halfway. Half of her family was gone, but they weren’t properly dead, so mourning felt weird. Clint was gone with no closure. She didn’t know what to do about him. And now Barney was here, not even fully holding her hand. Why could nothing be constant and sure? “I’ll find him,” she finally said, still not looking up. “Eventually.”

“Eventually,” he nods, knowing that her words would mean a promise to herself and that was good enough. He gave it a thought, the way she looked at his hand so longingly made him wonder. “Come here.”

He got up, dragging his chair closer to her and knocking the table with his foot a few times unapologetically. He finally reached over and pulled her into a hug. She could push away it she didn't want it, but he just wanted her to know that this option has always been open.

She said nothing, leaning into the hug without hesitation. This had been harder for Natasha than it should have been. Decades ago, losing a partner would not have hurt this much, and losing her family would be a non-issue because she wouldn’t have had one. Now, she’d become so dependent on the first family she’d ever had, and they were gone. Usually if something happened, she’d have one of them to fall back on, but now she didn’t. All she had was Barney. Don’t get it twisted, she really appreciated him being there. But she had to admit that sometimes it hit her how odd it was that she was in mourning with some other person who was in the house that she’d known just over a week. 

But the hug was much needed, and she would never turn it down. She knew he was trying his best, and that’s all she could ask. That’s more than anyone else was giving her right now. Her face buried in his neck as she let out a long, shaking groan. Why did there have to be so much pain? 

“It's alright. Just get it out of your system, don't scream in my ear though,” he said, chuckling softly as he stroked her back gently. “You are beautiful, you are loved.”

That was it, that was all she had to hear to start the tears falling again. They weren’t loud or shaking this time. She’d moved past being angry and desperate. Now she was just sad. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she awkwardly situated their hug between chairs. The two had gotten closer over the course of the last five days. They had to. But to hear those words coming from him, even if they were indirect, was something she didn’t expect, but definitely needed to hear. It was a scary thing feeling as if she was completely alone now. But she wasn't. 

Natasha sighed shakily into his neck as she began to calm down. She had honestly started to wonder if Barney was really as bad as Clint made him out to be. There was no way he was this monster that she had heard about in his stories. He’d been a perfect angel this entire time. She closed her eyes and slowly started to calm down. Even once she had stopped crying, she didn’t let go of him. She didn’t want to let go of him. “Thank you,” Nat mumbled softly into his neck. 

When she cried, he did nothing but hold her and it felt strange because Barney felt like he could be doing more. Should he be holding her tighter? Should he make her sit on him so their hug would be closer? Should he be hushing her? There just isn't enough material for him to research on what to do when someone in breaking down in his arms, at least not from the movies he spends so much time watching. Instead, he simply rubs her back gently and held her to his own chest.

“I'm here for you,” he tells her, still embracing her even as she calmed down. He could feel his shirt getting wet, but oh how it feels like it was well worth it.

Screw this. It felt amazing, but her neck hurt craning it like this. She was small enough, and he was big enough, so she quickly stood and simply swung one leg over his lap and sat down. Her arms resumed their spot wrapped around his waist, and she rested her head not quite in his neck, but just under his head. Natasha didn’t really know what to say. She was just sorta holding onto him like a front facing spider monkey. But she didn’t want to let go, and she felt good sitting right here. “You know you don’t have to be, right?” It might have been contradictory, given that she’d just straddled and cuddled him, but he wasn’t obligated to take care of her. She wasn't his sister. 

Damn tight, she wasn't. Otherwise, this would have been really awkward.

Apart from that, Barney just leaned slightly back so she had space to hug him like a 

sloth to a tree. “No, I don't have to. I just want to,” he told her the truth. Nobody really makes Barney Barton do anything if he didn't want to. He came here because he wanted to know if he had lost the only family that he had, but he found that he was getting into more than what he bargained. Yet, somehow, it all felt so right.

“Okay, just making sure you know.” She said it quietly, almost as if she didn’t want him to hear her in the event that he might actually leave. She really didn’t. But it wasn’t fair for him to feel as if he had to stay. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I'm glad to be here for you,” _ at least _ , he thought. He wasn't able to comfort Clint all those years, making the younger Barton feel like he was alone. Barney knew he couldn't do anything to turn back time, and no amount of reparation could change what he did, but maybe this is a good start. He rubbed her back gently, reaching a little higher and stroking her hair again. She seemed to like that the last time.

That earned a soft groan from Natasha who tilted her head into his hand slightly. That felt amazing, and she most certainly did like the sensation. It was extremely comforting despite its simplicity. It was one of the things Barney somehow managed to do that allowed her to feel safe in the midst of all the shit going on. “You can use your nails, you know?”

“Do you want me to?” He asks, starting to comb through her hair with his fingers and gently massaging her scalp with it. That was nice. It was like having a really cuddly cat.

Barney honestly didn't mind just holding her like this. If only the circumstances were a little different, maybe their relationship would be a lot more different than this. 

“That feels perfect.” Her eyes rolled back a little, and she practically went limp on top of him. Natasha let out a quiet high pitched hum and slowly snuck her hand that was wrapped behind him, up his shirt and gently began to do the same thing, scratching little patterns into the small of his back. 

“Ooh that tickles,” he said softly, chuckling a little in amusement. “You should also know it turns me on a little bit. Fair warning for you.”

He snuggled her in closer, feeling like it was just perfect to have her here with him. She's perfectly built to sit on his lap just like this and for a moment there, it made his hesitate. Nah, it is a different thing. They were both here just for a good time, not a long time. Besides, they were comforting each other being in a hard place. That was all.

“Why are you so weird?” That actually earned a soft laugh from Natasha, but she didn’t move her head. It felt too good to move. For the first time in a while, she felt okay where she was at. Being in Barney’s lap, she didn’t have to think about all the shit going on or all the people she had lost. She deserved this. She didn’t have to feel guilty. The Incident wasn’t her fault. Clint leaving wasn’t her fault. It just felt like it sometimes, and Natasha had spent her entire life accruing guilt. It was easy to blur the lines between what was actually her fault and what wasn’t. This last month had been a perfect example of that. 

She deserved this. She deserved to have this attractive hunk of a guy holding her and telling her that she would be okay and that she was beautiful. “I don’t mind though.” She didn’t say which thing she didn’t mind, him being weird or him being turned on, but if it was any indicator, she continued to scratch his back slowly.

He let out a soft grunt under his breath, but it was audible in his chest where she rests her head on. He didn't mind the way she touched him. It was calming and soothing too.

Just like Natasha needed this distraction to remind herself that not everything is her fault, he needed this breather for everything else that was happening in his life. She didn't know it, but him merely being here could mean so much trouble for him and yet he didn't care. At this moment, he simply needed her to continue doing this. It was a gentle gesture that just meant he was being appreciated too. Maybe… being an elder brother just meant that whatever you did would end up being on the bad side either way.

Clint obviously doesn't hesitate to show that to him.

Of course she heard the grunt, but if anything, it just brought a small smile to her face, and she tried not to laugh. He was being so amazing to her right now, whether he realized it or not. She probably would not have made it through this week without him. “Wanna move to the couch?”

“Yeah that would be a great idea,” he said. “My back is starting to hurt a little. Maybe I can lie down on the couch. But… you have to move first.”

“You mean you can’t just carry me?” she teased, choosing to then let her hand lie flat on the base of his spine under his shirt. That would be plenty incentive. 

“Mm well I surely can, just… give me a moment,” Barney shifted a little, ensuring that when he gets up he would not drop her. It would be embarrassing to just drop her in the kitchen, or slam her onto the kitchen table like it was some kind of wrestling match. So he got careful and then finally got up, carrying her with his hands under her butt and walking her back to the living room where the couch is.

Natasha smirked softly. It had worked. She tightened her legs around his waist a little, just for effect. She’d moved past worrying about whether or not she was using him. Now she just liked to see how much she could make him squirm. He definitely didn’t seem to mind. If she hadn’t just finished crying, or if she wasn’t so tired, maybe she would have taken it further, but right now, just cuddling with him and making him make cute little sounds while they did was good enough for her. “There we are.”

“Okay I'm going to sit down and you have to un-sloth yourself, otherwise I would be crushing your limbs with my weight,” he tells her as he sits down on the couch and pats her thighs gently. It was only hard enough to make some sounds, but it wouldn't be painful.

“You’d be surprised how durable I am,” she laughed, leaning her head back a little to look up at him. “And how lazy. You don’t ask a sloth to un-sloth. That’s like asking you not to order pizza for breakfast.”

“Hey I got your buffalo wings too, remember?” He laughs and then leaned back before he lies down completely on the couch. His legs hung out of the other arm rest, but it didn't matter. He's used to sleeping on couches like this.

Once he lied down, she adjusted a bit so that she could stay comfortable, still lying on top of him. She propped her elbows up on either side of the him on the couch and looked down at him. “True, and I appreciate that.” Her face was inches from him as she spoke.

“Maybe we should get more Italian food for breakfast next time,” he said. “Along with my pizza… maybe some lasagna, some meatballs, some of your buffalo wings…”

“Barney,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Buffalo wings are definitely not Italian.”

“But they are delicioso!” He said and the grumbled to himself in disappointment. “That's not Italian either, is it?”

Natasha grinned down at him, shaking her head. “No, Dora, that’s Spanish.” Her eyebrow raised, and she suddenly got an idea. “Eres muy lindo,” she spoke in perfect Spanish, figuring she’d take advantage of the fact that he definitely did not know any. “Y el sexo era muy bueno.” With that, she laughed softly, loving the idea of holding that over him.

“Who the fuck is Linda?” He frowned at her, tilting his head back a little so he could look at her some more. “Don't make me Google you!”

Her brow raised as if she were challenging him. “I don’t think you could even repeat what I said if you tried. Much less google it.”

“Oh watch me,” he said and tried to reach for his phone but he could not really get to it with her being on top of him. He was just grabbing her legs and her thighs, so he decided to just grab her butt instead. “Ooh Siri tell me how to say ‘what a firm butt’ in Spanish?”

Nat flushed red for half of a second before she narrowed her eyes down at him. “You’re literally five years old, aren’t you?”

“If you think so,” he smirks as he watched her narrow her eyes at him. “I don't know what you said to me just a moment ago but you are hot stuff and your butt is the bomb.”

She lowered her shoulders a bit, sliding her elbows forward so she was leaning closer to the couch, and ultimately closer to him, just barely two inches from his face. “ Puedo pensar en tantas cosas que quiero hacerte.”

“What exactly makes you think I do not know Spanish? Hm?” He raised an eyebrow at her and smirks. “Does Clint speak Spanish?”

Natasha shook her head. “You thought ‘delicioso’ was Italian. There’s no way you speak either of those languages.” Her head tilted a bit at the question. It was an odd one, and she wondered why he was asking. “No, but he speaks Italian.” 

“Of course he does,” he scoffs and looked away for a moment. “He's always been the brighter one between us two.”

Barney almost hates how easy it was for him to just slip back into thinking about the past when Clint and he were so close. Maybe it was just wishful thinking to even think about Clint becoming close to him again like before. Everything has changed anyway.

It wasn’t a surprise. That wasn’t commentary on Barney. She just knew how smart Clint was. She’d witnessed it firsthand on many occasions. “Yea, but he’s not here right now. You are.” She smiled softly, trying to turn the subject away from Clint and back to the very attractive, very nice man underneath her. .

He smiled back to her and nodded, reaching up to push the blonde hair out of her face. She wasn't caring for the red roots that were coming out from her dye job, but he didn't think it was hideous either. “And so are you.”

“Well, duh.” She smiled softly to him, not making much noise other than that. She thought about laughing, but then his hand was on her face, and she went quiet. Nat’s eyes fell on his, and she stayed silent. They were so close. He was being so gentle with her. Part of her wanted to kick her own ass. She should know herself well enough to know that she was just lonely and vulnerable. She didn’t actually feel the light and fluffy feeling in her chest that she thought she felt when she was around him. She just wanted the attention. Yet why couldn’t she speak? 

He stroked her hair gently, studying how each lock of hair was growing out and how it curls out at the ends in his hands. It framed her face perfectly. “You're beautiful,” he thought, just not realising that he had said it aloud. It was barely a whisper, but he didn't regret ever saying it. He just felt like she needed to know.

“You really think so?” The corner of her lips quirked up a bit. She knew she was attractive. That’s part of what helped her be so good at her job. But to hear him say that made her feel really good for some reason. Natasha never really expected him to say something so gentle and sweet, especially not after what she’d heard from Clint. 

“Yeah, of course,” he said. Sighing softly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for another hug. “Kinda feels like we'll never get to paint the shed walls those… glittery purple.”

“Not gonna lie,” she started, gradually resting her head on his chest once more. “I like this much better.”

“The shed can wait,” he said, stroking her hair gently and rubbing her back as well. It felt nice to have her weight on him, just cuddled so comfortably like this.

She felt herself doze off for a moment, and she took a long breath, trying to keep herself at least a little bit awake. But this felt so nice, and she hadn’t been sleeping much anyways. But between him playing with her hand and rubbing her back, she was fighting a losing battle. Her eyes stayed closed, and she groaned tiredly. 

He continued stroking her like a cat, enjoying listening to her making those noises. She wasn't the only one taking pleasure in those noises that she had thought about him making earlier.

Whatever it was, he wanted her to know that he enjoyed this downtime too. It was not just her feeling like this moment should not end. He enjoyed it entirely.

Natasha fell asleep almost immediately. Her head suddenly became a little heavier on his chest as she relinquished control of her body to the quiet slumber that was waiting for her. Had she not been so exhausted, maybe she would have thought about the fact that Barney was practically stuck here now until she woke up. But she was too concentrated on the fact that someone was here and someone was taking care of her. It felt too good to let him go just yet. And part of her really just enjoyed having him around, but she didn’t like to think about that and what that meant. Part of her felt that she was just lonely, so she felt the need to keep the company. But that wasn’t it, and she knew it. Natasha also knew that neither one of them would admit anything more than just a friendship born out of adversity, so she ignored it as best as she could.

But sleeping on top of Barney, that wasn’t so bad. So she continued to do it. She wouldn’t wake up for almost two hours, and when she did, she didn’t move. He seemed content to be there, and she wasn’t going to move if he didn’t want to. So she didn’t.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha gets a call from an old friend and suddenly she has a job to do.

Somewhere in the nap, Barney had shifted and had her sleep on the couch but still snuggled into him instead of wholly on top of him. It made for better comfort, and he still got a snuggle from her.

It was probably a while later when he woke up and he could only think of the dead arm. But that was when he saw her face right in front of his. Damn. What a beautiful girl.

As soon as he moved, she knew he was awake, or at least would be soon, so she opened her eyes. What she hadn’t expected was to see Barney staring right at her. Nat sat there, not moving or saying anything as she stared right back. She couldn’t look away. That would look like she was embarrassed. And honestly, she didn’t mind looking at him. He was pretty nice to look at. The sun was almost completely down, and the living room had a low orangey-purple tint to it. His face was mostly shadowed, but she could still see his eyes and knew they were staring into hers. Her heart stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as she let out a long breath. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he breathed, smiling a little as he continued to look at her. The way her eyes opened fascinated him. They were truly the windows to the soul and she was just… oh so stunning. “Good sleep?”

“Yea,” she nodded, only slightly, not wanting to move her head much. He was so damn close. She could just…

“Would you be terribly upset if I kissed you right now?” She didn’t know why she was asking. They’d fucked just a few nights before, and a few times since then. Maybe that was why. Fucking and kissing were two very different things. It all depended on the context, and their context was all sorts of screwy. They were both damaged from what had happened, so who was to say what the hell anything they did even meant? 

“Not terribly,” he said with a small smirk as his gaze immediately falls upon her lips. He made a small move towards her, keeping just a small distance so she could close it just in case she changed her mind, there was no way to tell what she really wanted. Hell, there was no way to tell what he  _ himself  _ wanted.

But she did want this, so Natasha leaned forward and closed the gap between them, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as her eyes fluttered shut once more. She was pinned between himself and the back of the couch, so she couldn’t do much with her arms, but that was okay. He was holding her already anyways.

It was perfect, if he could be honest. The kisses she gave him tasted like honey, sweet and he can never get enough. She gave him butterflies in his stomach, but he had to hold himself back right there.

No, it isn't love. He isn't in love with her. He isn't falling head over heels with her. He just wants to do this and she seemed to want too as well.

Love had to be off the table. As much as Barney had been amazing and stuck around, she knew it wasn’t likely that he would be a permanent fixture in her life. She honestly didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he have a job? Other obligations he’d have to get back to in the real world? Hell, did he have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? She had no idea. But right here, right now, she could pretend to ignore all of that and just enjoy this while it lasted because while she didn’t want it to end, she knew it would have to soon, so she shouldn’t get too invested. 

As she continued to kiss him, she moved forward a little, pressing herself flush up against him. She continued to do so, until she heard the unfamiliar sound of her phone ringing. 

Natasha paused, brow furrowing. No one had called her since the Incident. That was strange. 

Drawing away, he glanced over his shoulder to where the ringing noise could be heard. “Is it yours? You should probably get that… maybe it's important.”

Barney groaned a little as he moved, being with her and cuddling her for that little nap had made him forget how uncomfortable it was for someone his size to be sleeping on a couch this tiny. He shifted and finally got up, looking for the source of the ringing as he couldn't see where the phone was with his bleary, sleepy eyes.

As soon as he sat up, Natasha did as well, swinging her legs off of the couch and moving to the kitchen island where her phone was. The familiar “Star Spangled Man With a Plan” anthem played until she reached for the phone and answered, tired confusion in her voice.

“Steve?” she asked groggily. She hadn’t heard from him since Wakanda. She couldn’t understand why he was calling now. Natasha closed her eyes, stifling a yawn as she leaned on the kitchen island, listening to him. “Yea.” She nodded. “Yea… Mhm... “ Then she paused, her eyes opening as her head tilted. “You want  _ me _ ?” She took in a shaking breath and looked down at the ground nodding as she listened to what he had to say, as if he could see her. Finally, she stopped, and neither of them said anything until she nodded one more time. “I’ll do it. I’ll...see you tomorrow then, I guess. All right, bye.”

Natasha pulled the phone away from her face and stared at the caller ID until it faded away as the call ended. “Wow.”

Barney had gotten up and was now just sitting on the couch, running his fingers through his hair to make sure it wasn't horribly unkempt. He's never used a brush in his life, it seems.

“Are you needed somewhere?” He asks, having caught the meaning from the tone of her voice.

“Yea, uh…” She stood there, sort of just in shock. The phone was pressed against her chin as she stared into the distance of the dimly lit living room. “Steve wants me to come lead the Avengers. He’s.. got other things he wants to work on, or something.” She went quiet again, brow knitted. He wanted  _ her _ ? It wasn’t sinking in. 

“Sounds like a good thing,” he said, raising a hand and beckoning her back to the couch. He was too lazy to walk to her, they were going to end up at the couch again anyway.

Nat let a sharp sigh out through her nose, unconvinced, but she walked over to the couch anyways, sitting next to him. 

He shifted so he was looking at her, still taking up most of the couch but not imposingly. “What are you thinking?”

She just stared straight forward, elbows resting on her knees. “I’m not qualified.”

He tilted his head, a confused frown on his face as he continued to probe. “Because?”

She scoffed shortly and raised one arm to scratch the back of her head. “Where were you, circa summer 2014?”

“Probably busy going around from place to place doing things and people. Why? Where were  _ you _ ?” He asks her, knowing she was just being sarcastic but he knew she needed this wakeup call anyway. “Or I suppose more importantly… why are you  _ still _ there?”

“Barney, I’m not….” a good person. It was what she wanted to say. Before the Incident, she might have thought differently. She was working hard and coming to terms with who she was as a person. It wasn’t easy, and there were still days where she felt like shit, but she was trying, so hard. But now this had happened. She’d had the opportunity to do the right thing, and they couldn’t defeat Thanos. Not only that, but now she’d lost her friendship with one of the most important people in her life. Natasha groaned softly and leaned forward, cradling her face in her hands. “I’m not Steve.” She decided to leave the heavy baggage of her self-deprecation for another time. 

“Were you ever? It never stopped you before, why should it stop you now?” He asks. “If you ever believed in a limitation of second chances, you wouldn't be here. Natasha. I don't know much about you, or your past, or what you were dealing with, or what you're talking about. But I know for a fact you're something, you're not Steve, but you're something. And that's why you're here. So you decide for yourself. You can stay here and wait for Clint to come back, or you can pack up and go to Steve who's waiting on you.”

He wasn’t wrong. This whole situation was riddled with second chances. She would’ve kicked Barney out ages ago if that wasn’t the case. She’d wanted one from Clint. He wasn’t giving it to her. Natasha stayed silent for a moment, her face still in her hands before she finally took in a long breath and nodded. “Will you come with me?” Why Natasha was asking him, she had no idea. He wasn’t exactly an Avenger, and she doubted that was his style, but she still wanted him there. More specifically, she wanted him there with her. 

“Yeah, sure,” Barney said without much of a hesitation. Honestly, he had nothing else to do and right now the best thing he has in his life is Natasha. So if she says jump, he wouldn't even ask. He would leap like Michael Jordan.

“Wait, really?” That got her to look up at him. She had fully been expecting a hard no. 

“You wanna be there, you want me to be there. I'm there,” he said, shrugging a little and smiling to her. He reached over to hold her hand and nodded. 

When he took her hand, it took everything in her not to make some stupid face or sound. But her happiness was currently being rivaled with the glaring fact that this was not the Barney Barton she’d been told about for years. He was staying. Why was he doing that? “Well…” She started, slowly curling her fingers around his. “I guess we should go pack.”

“I never unpacked in the first place,” he said. If there was anything consistent about what he was allegedly fabled to be and what he is now, this is the thing. Barney never unpacked. He is always ready to be on the move, ready to bunk on the next couch or to just sleep in his truck. Whatever Clint told Natasha about Barney, there were many more layers to this redhead than what Natasha could see right now and he was determined to keep it that way.

There it was. The proverbial other shoe dropping. He had been ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Nat’s expression faltered a bit, but she managed a small smile before leaning over and kissing his cheek. “All right then. I’ll go pack. We can leave tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he said, nodding. “I'll just… help to clear out the food while you pack. We don't know when Clint is coming back so let's not keep the leftover pizza for him. We gotta eat them to avoid wastage.”

She just sort of nodded as she stood, finally letting go of his hand. “I’ll have some later maybe, or breakfast if there’s still some left over.” She suddenly wasn’t all that hungry. Natasha was incredibly nervous. Her? Leading the Avengers? They’d grown so much. There were so many of them now. “Holy shit, I’m doing this..” She shook her head and started off towards the stairs. “I’m doing this.”

“Yeah you are,” Barney says as she walked to the stairs. He wasn't quite sure what she was talking about doing, but he wanted to be supportive anyway.

Natasha disappeared up the stairs. She really didn’t have much to pack. As soon as they had lost, she’d come out here to check on Clint. All she’d really brought was a change of clothes and some toiletries. She’d stayed here enough to know they had stuff and to even have her own stuff here. But she knew that packing, even if just a small amount, would allow her to process her thoughts and at least start thinking of some sort of plan. Natasha didn’t really come down for the rest of the night. It wasn’t in avoidance of Barney. He could come see her if he wanted to. She’d invited him to come to the Compound with her after all. She just needed some down time. Part of her didn’t feel like leaving the farm just yet. What if Clint came back?

But she also knew that she had a job to do, and she needed to move on. There were other people that needed her. She’d tried her best to be there for Clint, but he had moved on. She should too. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other shoe finally drops.

It had been two weeks since the two had moved into the Compound, meaning it had been about five weeks since the Incident. Natasha had no idea how bad it had been. She’d been very lucky to have spent all her time afterward on the farm. She hadn’t even really been into the city once. The Compound wasn’t exactly the city, but she had to drive through it to get to where she was going. It had been haunting. Crashed or abandoned vehicles. Buildings that had caught on fire due to people disappearing or helicopters crashing into them. There was much more to the idea of people just disappearing than she would have thought.

Or maybe she did know it, but she was just ignoring that fact so that she could stay with Clint. Steve had been doing damage control with the remaining Avengers, but now they’d done as much as they could immediately in New York. There was still so much that needed to be done, but there were so many other countries and continents that needed their help. And as much as he enjoyed being a hero as the next caped crusader, he had some stuff of his own to take care of, and there were survivors that needed looking after. That was why he had called her in.

The Avengers had so much on their plate to clean up. So many people needed help, and now that there were so few people on the planet, crime rates had skyrocketed. One might think that the opposite would happen. Half of the criminals would have been disintegrated too, right? Right, but so did half of the rich population and the people who protected their things. People who might not ordinarily break the law had no issue doing so when they knew the chances of being caught were so much lower. Half of the police force was gone after all. 

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Natasha became the leader of the Avengers. She wouldn’t dare call herself the “captain,” even though usually, you would call her the “team captain.” But there had been an actual Captain in charge, and she was never going to take that title from him. It wasn’t as much physical work as she would have thought. Sure, there were a few skirmishes here and there that she’d take a few Avengers with to go settle, but for the most part, she was leading tele-meetings and moving the rest of the team like pieces on a chess board while running her own ops when she found something that piqued her interest. 

Just over a decade ago, she had joined the Avengers, the level seven field agent that she was. Only a few people on the team knew who she was, even though she had made quite the name for herself at SHIELD. But now, she was working regularly with Coulson as the face of the team. Her clearance level was practically non-existent. How had she gotten here?

It was a question she asked herself less and less each day, but sometimes it would resurface on days like this as she logged off of the open holo-telecom that allowed the team to keep in contact with one another. She’d given them each their orders and they’d all updated her. This was the time of night where Natasha would log everything and make herself some dinner as she scoured the news and the internet for more things or people that needed their help. 

She plopped down on one of the big leather couches in the entertainment room with a tablet in one hand and a bowl of stew she’d been eating off of for the past week in her other hand. 

The knocking on the door was a signal to show respect mostly, but he was also there to check on her. Barney had been keeping a distance as of the time they got here, he was just being someone who would be here for her.

“Hey, leader,” he smirks, leaning on the doorframe.

Natasha looked up from her tablet and tilted her head backwards, hanging off the back of the leather couch to look at him. That was still weird to hear, but she was glad to see him. “Hey,” she smiled softly to him. “How was your day?”

“It was alright,” he said, shrugging a little as he walks in. He walked to the back of her chair, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently massaging them. “You're tense from working so hard it seems.”

Her eyes fell closed, and her body went a little limp, threatening to drop the bowl of stew if she wasn’t careful, so she set it on the table next to her along with the tablet. Natasha leaned back into his touch and let out a low groan akin to that of a cat purring. “Am I?” Truthfully, since they came here, this was the most in her element she’d felt in a long time. Sure it was a lot of work, but she hadn’t felt overly stressed. Maybe she just enjoyed it that much. Or maybe she’d just missed her family. 

“Yeah, probably,” he said and then finally looked to her tablet. “What are you working on?”

_ ‘Looking for Clint.’  _ Nat breathed in slowly, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her shoulders. “I’m looking for a mission.” 

Barney didn't say anything else about that. She was looking for a mission, or anything else, he wouldn't have known what to say. He simply sighed, continuing to massage her for a while more.

“Hey, Tasha,” he starts, waiting for a while to continue what he meant to say.

“Yea?” She opened one of her eyes, not quite able to look back at him, but she still wanted to show that she was listening. 

“I was just thinking… I'm going to meet someone I knew,” he said. “Last I heard he was up north, not sure which state. He was really nice to me while I was still travelling around, and I was just thinking of how he's doing now.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. Both eyes opened, and she pulled away from him, turning to look up at Barney. Before she reacted, she needed to make sure this wasn’t what she thought it was. “You need help finding him? I’ve got the resources.”

“Nah, I'm good. You've already got so much on your plate,” he said, shaking his head. “I've got this. Just gotta drive upstate, make a few calls. I've got my own resources.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, saying nothing, but just watching him. This was unbelievable. He didn’t owe her anything. Five weeks they’d been together, but they never labeled it, never talked about it. But if he thought he was just going to leave… Nat’s jaw clenched, and she turned back around, standing and grabbing the stew and the tablet. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” She walked into the kitchen area, calling back over her shoulder as she walked, motioning for him to follow. 

He smiled as he looked back to her, following her back into the kitchen and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah I'm not sure. It's a long trip upstate, would take some more time to find him. Yeah, no promises there. I'll call you when I get there of course.”

Why the hell was he smiling? Natasha set the tablet down on the island and the bowl of stew in the refrigerator. Closing the door behind her, she crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best to remain calm. She’d give him one more chance before she called bullshit. “I can find him in five minutes, Barney. All I need is a name.”

“I mean sure, but it's not Avengers business. Besides, you were looking for a mission not a person,” he said.

“‘Looking for’ as in ‘I don’t have anything I’m currently doing.’ This could give me something to do.” That.. was somewhat reassuring. If he was being open about what he was doing, maybe he wasn’t being shady and dipping out like she imagined he was going to. Natasha walked over to the kitchen island and grabbed the tablet. “Come on. I’ve got a bigger monitor in our room.” She could feel her heart in her ears, suddenly preparing herself for the worst as she pressed the elevator button to take them to the room they’d been staying in. 

He took a deep breath as she led him to the elevator, but until now he has not said anything yet. He simply followed her and got back to the room they had been sharing. It was a lot bigger and a lot more cosy than the room they had been sleeping in back at Clint's farm, it almost felt like home.

“You know you don't have to do this,” he said. “There's plenty of things, events, crimes and whatnot for you to handle as the leader of the Avengers now. The people need you.”

“Yea, but I want to do this.” When she got into the room, she sat at her really big desk in the corner with two big screens attached to the walls. “I want to help, and I don’t want you wandering around aimlessly. It’s like anarchy out there if you go to the wrong places. You never know who’s gonna jump you on the road to get that beautiful truck of yours.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone as she began to start the search system. “All right. Name.”

Barney rubbed his forehead with the tip of his fingers, sighing softly as she begins to search. They both stared at the empty screen in front of them, knowing very well that there is no name.

“Tasha, I gotta go,” he finally said, looking to her. “I've stayed long enough. I mean, I just wanted to make sure you're alright, settled down and all. Which you are, now. I'm sure you'll be fine without me.”

Her eyes closed, and she rested her face in her hands, leaning on the desk. This wasn’t happening. This  _ wasn’t happening.  _ “Barney…” She didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t deserve her guilt tripping him. He didn’t owe her anything, not really, but he couldn’t leave her. It wasn’t fair. “You don’t have to go. You know that.”

“No, but I want to,” it was his turn to say this. Barney was stone faced as he says this, looking right back at her. A part of him, deep inside him, just wanted to stay and apologise to her for pulling such a cruel prank. But a bigger part of him wouldn't allow him to. He needed to go and he needed to go right now. He couldn't stay any longer without this turning into some sort of codependency.

She was relying on him as if he was the only reason she was worthy of being here, she had to know it wasn't true. He was relying on her like it was the only reason he deserved to still be breathing and kicking. He was starting to believe it too.

“I will call you,” he said. “Unless you don't want me to.”

“You know what?” she started, cutting him off. “I wanted so fucking hard to believe that he was wrong.” Her voice was still incredibly steady, and it was terrifying. She stood and stuffed her hands into her pockets. This wasn’t happening. She refused to believe that it was.

He looked to her as she stood and spoke so calmly. She was great at handling her emotions, as she had been known to be. It was no doubt that she was the Black Widow. Barney had no words to say as of now. 

“Why do you want to leave, Barney? What’s so amazing somewhere else that it’s taking you from me?” It wasn’t a mis-speak. She knew exactly what she was saying, but she had a sinking feeling that if he was so dead set on going, it didn’t matter what the hell she said to him, emotionally vulnerable or not. 

“Nothing,” he said. “Tasha listen to yourself. You're an amazing woman on your own, you don't need anybody to be here to tell you that. You don't need Clint around you to validate you and you most certainly do not need me. You were the one who said it, remember? You were just using me. And maybe I just got tired of that, I got tired of using you too. It's just time we both move on, or go back to what we were doing before. For you, it's the Avengers. For me, well, who knows?”

“You really think I was using you this whole time? This  _ whole time _ ?” There were only a few very specific things that would make Natasha fly off of the handle, and this whole situation was getting very close. “I’m not stupid, Barney. I know I don’t  _ need  _ you.” She wanted him. That was it. She didn’t know when, but in the last month and a half, she’d really grown to care about him. And the possibility that none of it had meant anything to him, that she’d been fooled the whole time was too much for her. 

“Then that makes both of us,” he says easily despite the underlying meaning that she held back in her words. He wasn't stupid either, he knew what she was getting at. “Look. I didn't want to fight, that's why I told you I was leaving. Besides, I'm not lying. I really do have a friend I'm going to look for, and I don't want you to know where he could be. I don't need you tracking me down like some criminal.”

“What the hell are you even saying?” Natasha scoffed and shook her head, taking a step closer to him. “Do you really think that’s how  _ I  _ see  _ you _ ?” Maybe she should. Maybe Clint wasn’t wrong. He really just was the piece of shit that left whenever things got heavy. “I’m not… what the hell?” What he was saying made no sense. And this all seemed to be coming out of nowhere. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I want out, Tasha. I just don't feel like this is where I should be. Look at this place, whatever you say or think… this is not a place for me,” he said. He stepped closer to her and put her face in his hands, just cradling it gently. “I care for you and for all that we've been through. But this is the end, I'm afraid. I've overstayed my welcome.”

He didn’t get to touch her. Natasha’s jaw clenched, and she pressed her hand on his chest, shoving him away. It reminded her too much of the first time they met, her trying to keep him out of the house and away from Clint. But now she’d let him in. She’d let him fucking play house and now he was going. “If you cared, you wouldn’t be leaving.” She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her and tell her it was going to be okay. Natasha wanted to hug him and kiss him and for things to be the way they had been, but she knew she couldn’t do that. It would hurt too much. 

He nods, understanding that she needed space from him now that all those words were said. He dropped his hands to his sides and looked away for a moment, collecting his thoughts and gathering his emotions. Barney couldn't let her see that it was hurting him too. He needed to be strong so she didn't know what truly was going on in his mind.

“I'll be packing my things, leaving by evening,” he said, taking a step back and turning to head outside. He needed to take a breather after this, and he knew the distance was what they both needed right now.

“Fuck you!” she finally yelled. She stood there, watching him leave. He didn’t even turn to look at her. And suddenly she was back at the farm, standing in the front yard, watching Clint leave all over again. Natasha felt her throat begin to close, but she couldn’t lose it. Not until he was gone. It was getting harder to ignore though, so she turned, yanking the bathroom door open and slamming it closed behind her as she leaned against it and slid to the floor. How could this be happening? She was finally starting to heal, and now he was leaving too. 

And there it was, her anger. If there was one thing that Barney knew to be an indication of what Natasha was feeling, it would be the way she expressed it. Anger was just one way for her to show the truest, purest form of emotion that she felt. Right now, she was feeling sad.

Barney made his way down the halls, he could almost hear her sobbing. No, not literally. But all those nights of her just sobbing in her sleep and him holding her close made the noise of it sound haunting in his brain. It took him every ounce of willpower to continue walking, to ignore the desperation for him to turn back and take her back. To simply hold her in his arms and tell her it was going to be alright. He had to fight that need.

Instead he leaned on a wall and slid down to the floor, sitting there in absolute silence as he felt what he felt once before for a long time. He was alone again.

She hated that it hurt so much. Why did it hurt so much? She barely knew him. He’d only been in her life for just over a month, and yet she wanted him to stay there forever. Natasha did her best to straighten her back against the door, allowing herself to get as much air as she could. She was the leader of the team now. She couldn’t be having meltdowns because her not-boyfriend decided to leave her. But she was, and she hated it. Natasha knew she should have just listened to Clint. He was right. And if she had, she wouldn’t be heartbroken right now. 

She couldn’t breathe. Her throat was tight, and she felt cold. She tried to concentrate on something, anything in the room that might ground her. But usually, if there was ever an instance like this, Nat would just call Tony. But Tony wasn’t here right now. God, why was everyone she cared about gone? Nat groaned softly, lungs burning as if she’d been holding her breath. Finally, she let out a short sob and immediately brought her hands to cover her mouth and nose, forcing herself to breathe steadily into the little area. She needed to calm down. Barney wasn’t here to help her anymore. It had to be her job. She closed her eyes when she felt herself start to get a little light headed. 

It wasn’t perfect, but at least she was breathing normally. Her head was still spinning, and she felt nauseous, so she leaned over and lied down on the bathroom floor. The cool tile grounded her as her eyes remained closed. This felt okay.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha reaches out to Barney. Clint and Nat see each other for the first time in five years.

Nobody could have guessed how five years simply flew by. Barney most certainly did not. Ever since he left the compound, he had left a certain life behind. It was like a whole part of him had been carved out, and he had forgotten about it back home.

The snow was thick outside, a blanket that hid the dirty ground underneath. No doubt, Barney was far away from whatever he might have said he was doing, but it was not something he wanted to talk about. Not that he had anybody he could be talking about it to.

So here he was, rolling up bandages on his bloody knuckles, a cigarette on its tray and a bottle of whiskey on the table. Yet his mind was wandering off elsewhere… it's tough not to think when you're all alone and all there seems to be is silence.

All Natasha had been doing the last few weeks was thinking. Tony was back with Pepper and Morgan, which she honestly couldn’t blame him for. If she had the opportunity to have her own family, she wouldn't leave them either. They had presented him with the idea of time travel, and he had shut it down fast. Sure, he was being selfish. She’d lost her only family, and this was her only chance of getting them back and redeeming herself. But of all the team members, he deserved to be a little selfish. He’d finally gotten what he had wanted, after all these years of sacrifices and anxiety. He had what he had wanted. She couldn’t ask him more than once to give that up.

So it was time to try another approach. Clint had spent enough time moping, and he needed to come back. Part of her felt extremely guilty watching him spin his wheels like that. He had gone down a dark path that she couldn’t help feeling at least a little responsible for. It was time to go get him. They needed his help, and she needed her friend back, if he was still there. Rhodey had been trying his best to be helpful, keeping her up to date on where he might be, but he had no idea that she’d been tracking him much longer than this. She just had one thing she wanted to do before she left. 

Five years. It had been five years since she had seen him, but she hadn’t reached out once. Neither had he. And perhaps that was her fault. He said he’d call, but she gave him no reason to believe that she would want him to. That didn’t mean she didn’t miss him of course. She did, even though it was stupid. It was a month and a half they’d spent together, and she missed him, five years later. It was so stupid. 

So fucking dumb.

But she texted him anyways.

\--Hey, it’s been a while. Just wanted to let you know, I’m going after Clint.

 Hope you’re doing okay.

-Tasha--

She didn’t expect a response, but part of her hoped for one. She just needed to let him know she was going after Clint. Maybe he knew more than she did. Maybe they had talked. It was unlikely, but still. Her thumb moved across the screen, and she sent the message, immediately throwing her phone across the room onto the couch. She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to keep checking it for a response. The best thing she could do was put her phone away. 

Oh it hurts like hell.

The little gash he had on his belly after the scuffle hurt like hell to sanitize, but it was a good thing that he was in cold weather. It helped numb the pain a little.

But the pain of knowing that he had potential for something, just  _ something,  _ with Natasha back then… that hurt much worse. He had seen his phone light up and heard it vibrate on the table. That was strange because he never gets messages. It was usually just business calls or other kinds that do not leave traces.

So he picked it up and looked at the text.

Barney could feel his heart leap in its cage, all pain forgotten for that very moment when he saw her name on that text. He got so excited about it that he had to read and read the message all over again.

Sure, it was about Clint and how she was going to get him. But it was a text from Natasha. That should mean something right?

He had to gather his thoughts for a moment, thinking of what to reply. Does he text a reply? Does he say okay? Does he tell her to wait for him? Does he tell her he misses her? He took a deep breath and crafted the message, ready to take the leap and tell her that he would come see her in two days. That was how long he needed to finish whatever business he has here and then head down to where she was.

As his fingers danced over the keyboards on the screen of his phone, it took him a while longer than he'd like due to just how cold it was. Then the weather proved to take a worse toll on him. His phone had died out thanks to the battery running out in the cold weather.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. Hopefully, that text had sent out, he thought. That's alright. He had hit send before the phone died out, right?

He set it down and continued to dress his wounds, he needs to finish this quicker now that he has someplace else to be.

Natasha sat at her spot in the conference room. From where she was, she didn’t hear her phone go off, so she assumed there was no response. She might as well start packing. 

 

… 

 

Two days later, and Natasha was in a quinjet, her partner seated next to her as she flew. “So… Nice haircut.” That was it. That was how she chose to break the tension. Good job, Natasha. 

Clint simply scoffed and shook his head. She was trying to lighten the mood, and rightly so. He had been one giant ball of dark angst and anger for five years now. It wasn’t a surprise that she felt the need to say something that might make things a little more comfortable, or at least remind her of the friend he used to be. “Yea, yea, well I don’t think you get much of a say, Miss ‘I change my hair style or color every year,’” Clint laughed. 

“Yea, well at least I don’t have a sleeve,” she shrugged, looking over at him and nodding to his arm. “Nice dead samurai you got there.”

The archer subconsciously looked down at his arm and nodded. It was clearly done with some Southern Asia influences, in a mixture of different traditional styles. He’d gotten it over the course of the time he’d been spending in Asia. “You’d be surprised how difficult it is to find a tattoo place over here.”

Nat just shook her head. “You forget, I grew up in Asia.” She knew the stigma around tattoos in a lot of Asian countries. Russia didn’t care nearly as much as other surrounding countries, but she had spent enough time in the culture and studying them to know. 

“Yea, yea, you’re right.”

It went quiet, and both of them just sort of stared forward, watching the horizon as they flew. It was a couple of hours still before they made it to New York. Awkwardness was never something the two of them ever had any issues with. They could sit in silence for hours or continue to talk for an entire twenty hour flight. There was no in between. Being around each other and being comfortable at that had become second nature. But there were some pretty big issues between the two of them that was causing some noticeable tension. Natasha wasn’t about to judge him for what he had just done. She was in no position to judge him, even if he disagreed. She’d done much worse. At least he was going after the bad guys. 

Then there was the issue of Barney. She didn’t want to bring up the fact that he had left and that she hadn’t seen him in just under five years. Part of it was a pride thing. She knew how it looked. She’d fallen for someone he had warned her would leave, and she ignored it, getting close to Barney anyways. But part of her also hated the fact that she’d stood up for Barney and he had proved her wrong. She wanted to show Clint that he had changed, but really, he hadn’t, but in the chance that there was any opportunity for reconciliation, she didn’t want to put a bad taste in Clint’s mouth when it came to his brother. So she figured it would be a good idea to just keep away from that topic. 

“So how’s Barney?”

So much for that. Natasha raised both eyebrows at the question. She wasn’t quite expecting that, at least not so bluntly, but the subject was breached, so she might as well answer his question. “I don’t know, actually.” She didn’t look back at Clint. Instead she continued to stare forward at the sky all around them. “He left to go see a friend.” She didn’t want or need to say any more than that.

Clint simply frowned and looked down at his lap. “And he didn’t come back.” It was more of a statement than a question. But despite everything that had happened, there was no pride or arrogance in his tone, no ‘I told you so’ to make her feel worse than he knew she already did. He’d been in this exact situation before. It was why he had warned her so strongly about getting involved with him in the first place. 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Natasha continued to pilot the quinjet, and Clint sat there, battling his guilt. If he had truly known this was what Barney was going to do, he should have stayed around to pick up the pieces. He should have just been the friend she needed and helped her mourn everything in the first place, but he didn’t. “How long ago was that? How long did he stay?”

“Month and a half.”

A month and a half? Clint had been attempting to get Barney to stick around for years. Never had he gotten him to stick around for any time remotely close to a month and a half. At first, he felt jealous. Why would he choose to stick around, especially if he wasn’t even there? But then the feeling slowly subsided and was replaced with one of sadness. He had stayed for a month and a half with Natasha. He’d never done that before. He must have really cared for her to do that. And while he knew Natasha was extremely selective with who she cared about, he also knew that had she not wanted him there, she would have kicked him out long before a month and a half went by, and she definitely would not have defended him in front of Clint. Whether Natasha admitted it or not, he knew something had gone on there. And it was for that reason that he was sad. Natasha very well could have been the best thing that ever happened to his brother, and yet he had left. 

“Damn,” he started, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, Tash..”

Nat didn’t know what to say. She had expected the ‘I told you so,’ but instead, he was being supportive. Perhaps he felt guilty for not doing so earlier, or maybe time away woke him up to realizing he’d kinda been a child. Whatever the case, she appreciated it. The redhead nodded and finally turned to look back at him. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” Her head moved back to looking out at the horizon, and she sighed softly to herself. She missed him. The text was evidence enough of that, but apparently he didn’t reciprocate those feelings enough to send her a text back. “He’s busy, I’m sure.”

He’d heard that plenty of times before. Hell, he’d said it to himself enough. But it didn’t make things any better. He knew that she was trying to play it off. He’d seen her do it enough to know the signs, but he also knew that she knew he could tell when she was just going through the motions. That must mean she didn’t want to talk about it. And he couldn’t blame her. It sucked to be left by Barney. They should start a club. 

Silence fell on them once more, but this time, it wasn’t awkward. There was simply nothing left to say. He knew her well enough to know what was most likely going on in her head, and likewise, she knew everything that he might have to say before he would ever say it. But she did have one question. “Are we okay?”

Clint looked over at her to see her staring forward. There was a look on her face that he didn’t see very often. In fact, he could hardly remember the last time that he had seen it. It was fear.

That made Clint’s stomach drop. The frown on his face deepened and he let out a long breath. When he left, he was angry. He wasn’t thinking, and he certainly didn’t realize the lasting repercussions leaving Natasha broken like that would have, but it made sense. She had wanted to talk, and he had left. Some of the things he’d said suddenly swarmed in the front of his mind. He’d really given her no reason to think they would ever be close again. And he deeply regretted it. Clint unbuckled his seat and stood, crossing the small gap between their two chairs. He stood behind her seat and rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We’re good, Natasha.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Immediately, he could feel the tension leave her body as she slumped back against the seat, letting out a long breath.

They were going to be okay. She had her best friend back. In the midst of all that was going on, it shouldn’t have been her biggest worry, but it was certainly up there. Now that she had him back though, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to make sure she kept him there. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second and last Barton Family Funeral.
> 
> I'm sorry.

“Clint, let me go.

It’s okay.”

 

They had won. Thanos was gone. Everyone they had lost was back. Except for two people. It had been three days since Tony had sacrificed himself to keep everyone alive. His funeral was yesterday. Everyone who came out to remember him gave their condolences to Pepper and to Morgan. Only a handful knew what to say or even attempted to say anything to the Avengers. It was hard. And for one archer there, it didn’t feel right. 

While everyone told him they were sorry for him losing Tony, there was one more person he missed even more. One person he knew was the first reason his family was able to stand here with him. One person who was the catalyst for the end of the war. One person who had given him his family back to help him mourn her since she couldn’t be there to do it herself. Where was her goddamn funeral? 

He didn’t want to bring it up, didn’t want to draw attention to himself in this, especially with this being at Tony’s house and all, but they needed to honor her too, even if they didn’t have a body to bury. So he waited. After a day, he was back on the farm. When he pulled up, her car was still in his driveway, and he felt his heart stop for a moment. Clint quickly parked the car as soon as he saw it, way too far away from the house, and jumped out, tearing down the long pathway up to the house. Had Bruce done it? Had he brought her back? Was this where she’d gone?

He fell through the front door, panting as he called out to the house. “Natasha?!” No answer. Clint jumped over the couch and bolted up the stairs, calling her name a few more times until he got to her room. His hand wrapped around the knob, and he pushed the door open. “Tash?” It was empty. His heart sank. But before the tears could form, he caught sight of a note on the bed. Hope formed once more. 

He practically fell to his knees as his fingers fumbled with the letter with his name on it. 

 

_ “Dear, Clint.  _

 

_ I hope you’ve been safe. I really miss you. I stayed here for a couple of weeks, but I had to go. Steve needed me. I left all the non-perishables here, and I gave the farm ‘next door’ a key to your barn. They should be looking after the animals until you get back. I’ll be checking up on them when I get the chance.  _

 

_ “I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I shouldn’t be, but I am. Had I known doing what I did was going to end our friendship, I would have stayed miles away from Barney. But he was what I needed then. And to be completely honest, he’s what I need right now, and what I want for the foreseeable future. I’m not saying he’s changed, but he’s still with me. He hasn’t left. That has to mean something. He’s a good person, Clint. I hope one day you can both sit down and work through your differences. I care about you so much. And I’d do anything for you. But I’ve really started to care about him too, and I think that he really needs someone who isn’t going to give up on him. I want to be that for him if he’ll let me. It’s crazy how much you can start to care about someone in such a small time frame.  _

 

_ “But you will continue to come first, if you’ll forgive me. I want to see you again. If you’re back and you’re reading this, Barney and I are staying at the Compound. He’s being incredibly supportive. You know how I get about being in authority positions. It’s been a crazy ride.  _

 

_ “I left the car here. Barney and I took his truck. Please come to the Compound. I miss you. I know I’ve said it like five times, and I know that’s extremely not like me, but I do. You’ve always been there for me, and I hate that I wasn’t a better friend to you when you needed it. Maybe I should have come after you, but now it’s too late. I promised Steve I’d help. If you read this, reach out. I’ll be there in a second.  _

 

_ I love you so much, Clint Barton.  _

 

_ I wouldn’t throw away our friendship for the world.  _

 

_ -Nat” _

 

It was then that the tears came. His arm extended on the bed, and he slumped down, his head buried in the mattress as he began to sob. He’d spent those few days with her. She’d sacrificed herself for everyone, including him. And she hadn’t said a word. She hadn’t said how she felt or how much this had hurt her. Maybe he really was selfish. He couldn’t breathe. He missed her too. 

 

… 

 

Clint didn’t know when he passed out, but he woke up the next morning in Nat’s bed. The letter was folded neatly on the nightstand. He could hear the kids playing outside and smell the breakfast being cooked downstairs. Everything was back to normal, or so it seemed. His eyes landed on the letter, and he sighed, feeling his eyes begin to sting once more. Clint shifted to his side and pulled his phone out. He knew what he had to do. 

When he met Nat again, Barney was nowhere around, and she hadn’t mentioned him once. What happened between them, he didn’t know. But he did know his brother deserved to read this letter. He knew how Nat got about her feelings. There was a good chance she hadn’t told him any of this. 

He also decided in that moment, they were going to have a funeral for her. And despite how their last interaction had gone, he knew Barney deserved to be there. If everything in that letter was true, he deserved to be there more than Clint did. But he didn’t know if Barney even knew she was dead. It was all so fast, and that wasn’t exactly the sort of thing covered by newspapers. They’d find out eventually by the sheer fact that she was no longer around. But without an actual body to produce, they had some time before it hit the tabloids. 

Pulling his phone out, Clint hit Barney’s contact and dialed the number, bringing the phone to his ear. 

That's strange, Barney thought. He recognizes this number but it wasn't one he ever thought would be giving him a call if ever. "H'llo," he pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Barney?” His voice came out dry. Of course it did. It was the first thing he’d said all day. But there was also the fact that he’d probably spent the better part of a few hours crying the night before. Clint cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Where you at?”

"You gotta guess," Barney said, just out of habit and also a little bit to irk his little brother. It wasn't everyday Clint would call Barney on a burner phone, and despite obviously hearing that parched tone on the other end of the line Barney was not going to allow them to have a painful conversation. Nothing could be so bad that he couldn't crack a little joke. "What's up?"

“You think you could make it to the farm soon? Like… tomorrow soon?” He didn’t want to break the news over the phone. He that wasn’t the way to do it, and he knew there was a chance Barney wouldn’t come if he knew. 

The way Clint asked made Barney feel a little suspicious if not just a little bit. It made him feel a little queasy even, like something was not right but he couldn't say much about it. In truth, Barney was already on his way to the compound. He did promise to meet Natasha in a few days and it had been a few days.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, see ya there," he said.

“All right…” he paused, nodding once. “See you then.” It was sad that this was probably the first time he’d talked on the phone with Barney in years. But he was more distracted by the fact that he didn’t have his best friend anymore. Having Barney here was more important than whatever beef they might have. Clint stayed quiet for a moment before just hanging up. 

If Clint was calling for him, it would be more important than anything else. He was going to be there when Clint calls on him and he's going to do this thing right at least once in his life. So here he goes, right down to the farmhouse Clint has his happy family living.

It would be a few hours ride in that old truck that Barney has. He liked that old truck, it wasn't too difficult to maintain and it still worked like magic. It was also large enough for him to be comfortable in, had some space to sleep in the back too. It's why he still drives that piece of junk. He was already on the road and he would reach the farmhouse probably by sunrise, just in time as he had promised.

The next morning, the house was empty. As hard as it was to be away from them now that he’d just gotten them back, Clint had asked Laura to take the kids out for a bit. They’d all gotten dressed up and were out at the lake, despite how early it was. Living on a farm, you got used to an early rise. This was no different. When he heard the now familiar sound of the truck, Clint set down the coffee mug he’d been drinking from and stood off of the couch, heading to where the front door was. Nat’s car wasn’t parked out front anymore. He didn’t want to give Barney the same false hope he’d received, even if Barney didn’t know she was dead. 

Her letter was folded into his jeans pocket, and he stood on the porch, waiting. That was all he could really do at this point. 

Barney parked right there at the front of the lawn, at the usual place he did. Then he walked over with his keys in his hands, a grin on his face. Barney's not stupid, he knew that if Clint called him it would be a really important situation. Something must have happened to have the blonde Barton call for him.

"What's up, bro?" He greets, walking over to where Clint was. Barney still didn't quite know if the family was back, he's heard of people returning from being missing but he doesn't know anything beyond that.

Clint did his best to reflect the smile, but it was a sorry attempt at that. The younger archer simply nodded and pushed the screen door open, leading them both into his living room. “How have you been?” He didn’t really know how to start. Perhaps he would talk about the war, how they’d won. Ask if Barney got any of his friends back. 

What was he talking about. Barney didn’t have any friends. And Natasha had been very quick to pick up on that fact. As his mind continued to run, he headed back to where he had been seated on the couch, motioning for Barney to sit wherever he pleased. 

"Yeah I've been alright, how are you holding up?" He asks, going to take the seat on the couch. Yes, this couch. It really brings back memories. How he practically annoyed Natasha to tears on this couch, he they had so many fights and so many comforts on this same couch. It wasn't even his, nor was it hers, but still it held so many of their memories.

That was the wrong question to ask. Barney didn’t know any better though. Clint simply took a deep breath and nodded. “Well, we won,” he started, nodding slowly. “I’ve got the family back.”

"That's nice," he nods and then takes a glance around. The way that statement hung made him curious and he wasn't sure if he should ask because he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Clearing his throat, he gave a little shrug as a nonverbal question for a moment while he arranged his words. "So… where's Tasha?"

Clint had thought all night about what he was going to say. He’d come up with a pretty good script for how to best deliver the news, but now, with Barney sitting right in front of him, the words stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a short breath that he substituted for a sob. He couldn’t start crying yet. Clint leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Nat and I were tasked with getting one of the Infinity Stones. It was on this planet called Vormir.” Clint let out a quiet scoff and shook his head. He still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that he’d gone to space. 

“I went to another  _ planet,  _ Barney.” There was a sad smile on his face as he spoke, but it soon faded and was replaced with Clint’s hands over his eyes as he rubbed his face and drew in a sharp breath. His voice lowered as he pulled his hands away and spoke. “We needed the Stone to defeat Thanos and bring everyone back. Without all of them, we couldn’t save everyone.” His voice had began to quiver, and his hands were shaking in his lap. He had to get through this. Clint clenched his jaw and leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “For someone to get the stone, they had to sacrifice something.” It was then that the first tear fell, streaking down the side of his face as his eyes remained fixed on the off-white ceiling. “Someone they loved.” 

He felt his body begin to go numb, his stomach sinking deep in him as he recounted the feeling he had as he realized she was going to fight him on this. Clint closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “It…” Unsatisfied with his position, he leaned forward once more and cradled his face in his hands, his face all screwed up as he held his breath, trying not to cry again. But he couldn’t help it. His lungs burned, and his shoulders began to shake, but he made no sound. No air passed through his mouth for a long moment. But finally, he gasped for air, letting out a low and shaking groan as he rubbed his red eyes and sighed. “Nat sacrificed herself so that we could win.” He wasn’t sobbing, but the tears continued to fall. His hands never stopped shaking as he brought the back of one up to wipe his face, clearing his throat. “She died so that I could have my family back.” 

Barney couldn't even imagine to have sat through all that. He was waiting… just waiting… he was in denial, he knew.  _ Not until Clint really mentions it. Not until he says the word itself. _ He kept telling himself not to accept what his brother might be insinuating, what the little story was getting at. Not until it was confirmed, he was not going to make any assumptions.

Then there it was.

The words came out, the mention of her name, the purpose of it… It came out of Clint's mouth all at once and Barney sprung up to his feet. He couldn't sit there and look at his brother's face as they both were forced to accept this new reality. 

He walked to the window, looking out of it but not seeing anything. What was he even looking for? What was he hoping to see out there? His mind was running faster than he could even think was possible. His heart just pounding in chest and the sound deafening his ears. This has to be some kind of cruel joke… it had to be Clint's way of getting back at him for… for whatever! It had to be.

Otherwise… the cruel joke was just him.

Clint did his best to steady his voice before he started speaking again, clearing his throat once more. “I...I realize now that whatever happened between you two, I won’t understand.” Clint raised another hand to wipe his face, sniffling as he finally pulled himself together. “And that’s okay. But Laura and the kids and me are gonna have a little memorial of sorts tonight.” He finally stood, not really moving closer to Barney, but finally looking at his brother as he spoke. “The kids really loved her. She’s-- _ was  _ family.” It still didn’t seem real to him. How could she be gone? Besides Laura, if not more than, Natasha was practically a part of him. As partners, they did everything together. She’d been a permanent fixture in his life, and he loved her. But now she was gone. 

“You two were close,” he finally said. After talking to Natasha just days before, he now realized how important the two were to each other. Barney didn’t just stick around for a month and a half for anyone. “And you were there for her when I should have been. But I wasn’t. I know she would want you here.” It went unspoken that Clint wasn’t going to force Barney to stay. They’d had that conversation enough times to know that Barney wasn’t going to if he didn’t want to, so why push it. So in the event that he decided not to stay, Clint reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter that was still neatly folded up. “I wanted to give you this.”

Clint then stepped forward and stood next to Barney at the window, holding the card out for his older brother to take. “I have plenty of things to remember her by. And I think, had she known when she wrote this what was going to happen, she would have wanted you to hear what she had to say. I know Nat. I doubt she ever would have said any of that to your face.” Pulling his hand away from the letter, Clint scratched the back of his neck and moved back into the middle of the living room. “You’re welcome to the guest room if you decide you want it.” He stood with his hands in his pockets, waiting to see if Barney had anything to say. Neither of them really knew each other well enough to know how to comfort each other in this, or at least Clint didn’t. Barney had grown up taking care of Clint, but Clint had never really taken the chance to get to know his older brother beyond the narrative he’d built in his own head all those years ago. 

It took him some time before taking the card, but he did not look at it. Barney was too busy trying to stabilize his heart that felt like it could stop anytime. If Clint thinks he's going to see Barney cry, the blonde is wrong. He was just going to calm himself down to stay rational as he always is.

"When is it?" He finally speaks, his voice too parched for his liking. All the news was coming in at once and it felt like too much of a shock for him to really react to. Maybe later when he's all alone in his room, doing nothing but reading the letter and truly digesting that Natasha is gone, maybe then he would react the way he honestly would. But for now, he needs to get by for everyone's sake.

“Tonight. Probably after dinner.” Damn, Barney must have been pretty shaken up to not catch the fact that Clint had already said when the makeshift funeral was to be. He simply frowned and turned away quietly, moving towards the stairs. “I’m going to the lake. You’re welcome to come see the family or just… make yourself at home.” It was a far cry from how he’d last spoken to Barney. But now their stupid argument over Natasha seemed like exactly that—stupid. Had they both had their druthers, she’d be here right now. But she wasn’t. Everything that might have pissed Clint off about the two of them seemed inconsequential now. He just sort of gave a single nod before heading up the stairs to go get changed into some decent lake clothes. 

Clint was right to think that it was a shock. Barney hardly heard anything that he had said past the drop of the bomb, he didn't really know what else to think. Whatever Clint said beyond that fact was irrelevant, or at least Barney feels it would be.

There was no point putting himself in the middle of the living room where he would be forced to make conversation with the rest of Clint's family. It wasn't going to be fair for them if he was snappy at them, it wasn't their fault. So Barney headed upstairs to the guest room with his bag. He needs to change into something nice, it was going to be the last time he would say goodbye to Natasha. 

As soon as he walked into the room, he put his bag on the floor by the bed and sat down. He opened the card, taking a deep breath to read the letter. Natasha had beautiful handwriting, the way the words curved and slanted. It really does speak volumes about her personality.

Getting through the letter was tough, he didn't know what he had to do as he read on. It was giving him a headache he didn't even know how to get rid of. He felt like he needed to let out these emotions somehow, but it wasn't coming. The tears weren't coming.

As the hours passed, Clint and his family spent the majority of the day at the lake. They’d packed a few picnic meals and had no real reason to come back to the house. It was a beautiful day, and the fact that he had his family with him made the day even more wonderful. He had messed up the first time. When he lost his family, he didn’t take the time to be thankful for who he still had with him, and in the process, he’d pushed them all away. Now he’d been given a second chance. And he knew Natasha would want him to spend that time with his family. 

That wasn’t the guilt talking. He wasn’t trying to make himself feel better for not staying in bed all day and crying over her. He’d certainly done that. But he also knew she’d given his life so that he could be here with his family. He couldn’t just ignore that and let her sacrifice be for nothing. She’d given him the world. She’d given him life. He had to live that. 

As difficult as it was and as strange as it felt to not have her there, he was incredibly grateful to have this time with his family. When the sun began to set, the Bartons returned to the house, all wet, with their spoils of war. Clint had brought some fishing poles, and he and the kids had caught dinner. Once it was cooked, he walked upstairs to see if Barney’s door was open. It wasn’t. He hadn’t come down all day, and now was no exception. He figured it would be best to leave his brother be for now, so he headed back downstairs for dinner. The whole house smelled, so if he was hungry, he could easily come down and get food. 

After the dinner was eaten and put away, the kids were dressed in their Sunday best and ushered quietly outside to where the swing was. Under it were the mementos from five years ago, along with the dried out flowers that could barely be made out. This time, Clint held a simple pair of dog tags in his fist. They’d been a part of her effects when he’d brought her to SHIELD, one of the many things she’d had taken from her during the transition from her KGB and freelancing life to the one they had given her. It was crazy to think how the person who had once worn those tags would become his best friend, and to see how much she had changed over the course of almost two decades. With them in his pocket, his fist closed around them, he walked outside to where Laura and the kids stood in front of the swing. 

There was no sight of Barney. Clint had assumed from the silence in the house that he was already outside, but he wasn’t. The only reason Clint had any indicator that he was still around was the raggedy old truck that was parked 20 yards away. He shook his head and joined beside Laura, her arm quick to wrap around his waist. Clint sighed softly and looked back at the house for a moment. He’d extended the invitation. There was nothing else he could do. 

“Is he coming?” Laura leaned in to whisper in Clint’s ear. He simply shrugged then shook his head. 

Nathaniel’s mouth was twisted into a wrinkled pout as he turned to tug on his mother’s skirt. “Is daddy’s friend coming?”

That stung a bit. He and Laura had discussed what to share with the kids. They had obviously realized something was happening when they had to leave for the lake so early without him. They’d settled on telling the kids that Clint had a friend coming who might want to go to the funeral too. But now he regretted that. Clint exhaled low and knelt to eye level with Nathaniel. “Hey, buddy..” he offered a sad smile, taking his son’s hand in one of his fingers. “That’s daddy’s brother. He's busy a lot. We weren’t sure if he could come but…” Clint looked over his shoulder one more time at the house, then back to Nathaniel. “I think he really cared about Auntie Nat too, so I invited him. But sometimes,” he continued, wrapping his arms around his son and picking him up to prop him on his left hip, “When people are sad, they don’t know how to be around other people.”

Laura rested her hand on Clint’s back and gently rubbed her fingers back and forth. There wasn’t much comfort she could offer beyond that. 

“Does he love Auntie Nat?”

Clint breathed softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “That’s something you’ll have to ask him, bud. I can’t figure that one out yet either.”

Nathaniel paused for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. “It’s not that hard to know.”

That earned a sad smile from Clint who just nodded and stared down at the swing. “It shouldn’t be that hard, should it?” His eyes stung, and he sniffed sharply, breathing out gently through his mouth. Clint turned to Laura and nodded. “Let’s get started.”

The door clicked open, Barney appearing from behind it. He had on a nice black shirt and some old dark jeans. He had spent such a long time just looking for the right clothes, preparing to make sure he looked nice for this event. Despite being significantly late, there was not a single part of him that wanted to skip this memorial service. He wanted to be here. He needed to be here.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, walking to where the family was. He didn't make eye contact with anybody in particular, just looking in their general directions and then standing where he assumed they would be doing it.

Barney was certainly the only one not looking at anyone in particular. All of the other five sets of eyes were trained on him. They’d all wanted him to come, but no one actually expected him to. Had this not been a memorial for his best friend, Clint might have even smiled upon seeing Barney come, but that wasn’t the time. He could thank his brother later. “No worries. We hadn’t started yet.” Clint looked at Nathaniel and ruffled his hair once. “Hey, buddy. I’m gonna put you down now, okay? Okay.” He did so and stuck his hand into his pocket once more, fiddling with the chain in his pocket. 

He wasn’t even quite sure what he wanted to say. None of them were particularly religious, and he’d already explained to the kids what had happened. Retelling the story would just make everyone more sad than they already were. Clint rubbed his mouth for a moment before beginning. “If Natasha were here right now, she’d probably ask us why we’re even having this funeral for her. They were never her thing.” Clint sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment. “But Natasha also never realized how important she was. If asked, she’d say she was the last person deserving of a memorial, but by the sheer fact that I’m here right now, and she isn’t—“ His voice broke, and he closed his eyes, biting the insides of his cheeks. 

Lila wrapped her arm around his, standing on the other side of him. She was very clearly on the brink of tears as well, but she wanted to support her dad. Clint nodded in thanks and tilted his head over to press his lips to the top of her head silently. He stayed there for a moment before he drew in a long breath and continued. “Natasha Romanov was the most selfless person I have ever met. She gave more than she realized, and never knew how much good she did because of it.” He frowned as he felt a tear fall down his cheek, but with his arms full, there was nothing he could do about it. “She was my best friend, my partner. A wonderful godmother to my children and friend to my wife. She’s the reason I’m with them right now, and I will forever be grateful to her for that.” As he finished speaking, his voice had quieted to just above a whisper. There was so much more he could say, but he didn’t think his body would allow it. So instead, he gently pulled away from Lila and Laura and stepped forward, kneeling in front of the swing. 

Out of his pocket, he pulled the dog tags and chain. The blonde archer laid them gently on the wood of the swing and sat there silently. Behind him, Laura stood with her arms around her daughter who was doing her best to suppress quiet sobs, and Cooper held the hand of his younger brother. Clint stood and walked back to them, putting a hand on Cooper’s shoulder as he watched the swing gently sway. 

Barney was silent for the most part, just staring into the distance. He hates this so much. He simply hates it. When Clint was done, Barney looked at the dog tags and frowned. He hasn't been looking at anyone else, so of course he wouldn't know if he was expected to say anything.

When he looked up, he saw Laura looking at him expectantly. "Do you want to say some words?"

Barney weighed it over, thinking about what to say. Did he want to say something? Did he want to contribute to this already sacred evening of mourning?

"Yeah, sure," he said thoughtfully. "I thought… no, let me start over. Natasha was a good person. No matter what she thought, or what she said she was. She has always been a good person and she proved it to the end. There isn't much I could say, really. I…"

Barney fell silent for a moment there, his mind just drifting off and the rest of the sentence was playing out in his mind. When he snapped back to reality, he gave a small smile.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking about how I was on my way to see her actually, and how… I never got to meet her. I guess I'm always late, or gone, or both," he said. He cleared his throat, face and eyes still dry. He nodded then. "I hope that wherever she is right now, she's happy and I hope she knows what she did is good. It makes her a good person. That's all."

He looked at the dog tags and then clenched his fists in his pockets. He frowned deeply, staring at the spot on the ground. His lips pressed into a straight line.

Clint had moved to pull Laura and Lila into his arms while still holding his son’s hand. As Barney spoke, he remained silent. He recalled how Natasha had told Clint she hadn’t seen him in quite some time while they were on the flight back, how she’d tried to gloss over the subject because of how hurt she was. Hearing that Barney had wanted to go see her made his stomach twist into knots once more. 

But that wasn’t important. For having only known her for a month and a half, Barney had hit the nail right on the head. It was just a shame that only after her death would these things be said to her. Anyone who knew her knew she needed to hear these things while she was alive. But it was too late now. It didn’t have to be sad though. Despite whoever she claimed to be or think she was, her actions showed otherwise. That’s why they were all here. 

Whenever it became clear that no one else had anything to say, Clint and Laura rounded up the kids after he caught her eye and nodded to the house. If he knew his brother at all, he knew that how much he had said was incredible progress made, but he also knew that if how much time he’d spent in the guest room was any indicator, some time alone ‘with Natasha’ might be good. Laura took them all inside, and Clint stood next to his brother for a moment. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. I’ll keep the light on.” He gently let his hand fall on Barney’s shoulder for a second before turning and heading back inside. 

His thanks didn't come through despite him turning and nodding to Clint upon hearing what he said. Barney just couldn't say a word more. The others had left for the house, and Barney was left all alone. He stood there for a good long time, hands still in his pockets and ignoring the cold harsh winds slapping him across the face. There was so much still he wanted to say, but he didn't. He couldn't. What for would he say all that when she isn't here to hear it?

As he looked at the dog tags again, he started to look around. He was looking for something and it was pretty obvious. He didn't quite know what he was going to do now, but he knew he had something to look for. Pulling out the piece of paper from his pocket, he frowned and shook his head. No. Not that.

He turned around and started walking, rushing back into the house. He ignored the Barton family as he heads into his room, coming back out just as quickly as he had gone in earlier. Then he slowed down in front of the swing, panting a little from the run before finally placing something next to the dog tags.

That was it.

  
  


…

 

The next morning, Clint woke up as usual. He did the usual morning chores before sunrise and was on the couch with his newspaper and coffee just a few hours later. He’d work later on in the day too, but he enjoyed the mornings with his family, so he tried his best to at least carve out two hours before they all got busy with chores and school work. He caught a glimpse of Barney’s truck still in the yard from his spot on the couch. He hadn’t noticed Barney come back in the night before, so he wasn’t entirely sure he was still here, but seeing the truck, he just nodded and continued to read his paper. 

True enough, Barney walked in just after. He looked like he hadn't slept the whole night, his shirt sleeves were folded up to his elbows and a few buttons had been popped off. When he saw Clint, he kept his gaze low but then went ahead to speak to the blonde Barton. "Hey… do you have any… y'know… beer or anything?"

There was the Barney he recognized. It made him sad to see that familiar image, but it was understandable. He was in an awkward position where he could help his brother feel better, or he could enable the part of him that he hated to see. He supposed that if he was here to watch Barney and make sure it didn’t get out of hand though, it wasn’t such a bad idea though. The two of them knew better than anyone how badly alcohol can cause a situation to go. “Yea, outside fridge.” He didn’t keep it in the house with the kids. 

"Cool, can I get a bottle?" He asks. Barney never asks. He was probably worse off than he actually looked.

“Uh… yea, sure. Combination to the shed is on a paper in the kitchen island.” He nodded to the kitchen and looked back to his newspaper. 

Barney was quiet afterwards, just grabbing the key and then going to get the beer. He was sure he could get a bottle or two more without Clint being terribly upset with him. So he sat in the shed, just popping open the beer and drinking alone. He was going to leave soon, so it doesn't matter if he was around much or not. He just needed to take a moment or two alone. He needs this.

Clint waited for him to come back inside, but he didn’t. His brow furrowed and he folded up his paper and walked around the back of the house to find the shed. Seeing the door unlocked and cracked open, he cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pocket, not going inside just yet. “Hey, Barney?”

Wiping a hand over his face, he took a deep breath to calm himself and straightened up. "Yeah," he said, acknowledging his brother who was asking for him and obviously was seeking permission to come in. Barney didn't know why Clint had to do that, it was his own house and it was his shed.

It may be his house and his shed, but Clint knew how Barney felt about his space. It was something that had always been important to him, so important that he spent so much of his time running away from anything that might pose the least bit of attachment or seriousness. Barney needed his space, and this whole thing with Natasha was hitting him harder than Clint had ever really seen anything hit his brother. He didn’t really know what to do about it, but he wanted to let him do whatever he needed to do to heal. But this was where it was time to do the brother thing. 

He pushed open the door and his eyes fell on the image of Barney with his back propped up against the wall, a few beer bottles surrounding him. Clint did his best to not react. He didn’t want Barney to feel guilty or to run away because Clint was trying to get close to him, but it hurt him to see his brother like this. A part of him was struggling to accept the fact that the death of Natasha was what had done this to him. He could count on one hand the amount of things that had fucked Barney up this badly, perhaps just two fingers, and the fact that he had cared about Natasha this much and he had made them feel guilty for it was suddenly hitting him. 

Clint sighed softly and sat down next to his brother, letting out a long groan. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t really know where to begin, but he knew that Barney wasn’t likely to be the one to say the first word. “I’m sorry.”

"Is it your fault?" He asks, taking a swig from the bottle. "You and I both know there was nothing you could have done to stop her from doing what she did. There isn't much for us to do now either. We just gotta… accept it… and move on."

Barney let out a little scoff, just smiling to himself and then shaking his head as he looks down to the bottle he was cradling in one hand. It took a long moment for him to ponder, something obviously on his mind as he then speaks again. "Do you think… what I said for her memorial thing… do you think it's enough?"

The way he was talking about her then, the way he was talking about her now, Barney knew her. He knew her in a way that it had taken Clint years to recognize. Maybe he was just oblivious. Or maybe Natasha had opened up to Barney. He wasn’t mad about it anymore. It was stupid and selfish to be mad about it now. Clint just shook his head. “What you said was more than enough.”

He sighed softly and picked up a piece of pine straw, playing with it. “I’m glad you came. I’m sure she would have been too.” 

"Eh it doesn't matter," he said, a grin on his face though the emotion doesn't quite reach his eyes. He looked to Clint and gave a small shrug. "It probably doesn't mean much coming from me now, but… you're really important to her. I never wanted to take over your place with her or whatever. At the end of the day, I still had nothing to put on the swing for her. It's … it's not quite enough."

Barney took a deep breath and sighed, shaking his head as he got to his feet. "Yeah, I should go. I drank enough of your beers already. Sorry about that, I'll buy you a couple to replenish your um… your… fridge."

Evidently, he couldn't think straight long enough to even conjure the word that should be at the tip of his tongue. He's had a long drive, one thing on his mind, and he hasn't slept for two days now. Of course, he's gone without sleep for longer but this is taking too much of a toll on him if he could even be honest to himself.

“Barney, you can’t drive like this.” He shook his head and stood, placing a hand on Barney’s shoulder. He wasn’t going to make Barney stay longer than he wanted, but he also wasn’t about to let his brother drive drunk. “Just… sit back down. I’ll grab you a water bottle.”

"Yeah, you're right. A bottle of water would be great," he nods and then grabbed the bottles of beer. "I should clear this out. What a mess, I'm so sorry about this. Yeah…"

“Just leave ‘em. I’ll clean it up in a bit.” Clint opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, taking the beer bottles out of Barney’s slow hands and replacing them with the water bottle. He knew talking wasn’t Barney’s things, but he still had some things he wanted to say. “You should really sit down.” Clint sat himself back down where he was and watched, hoping Barney would follow suit. 

Taking the bottle of water, Barney contemplated things. He really contemplated it. He was even thinking if he should just walk out of the shed right now, it felt a lot like Clint trying to talk to him about this and he didn't feel like talking about things. And yet, he still sat back down.

Clint leaned with his head back against the wood of the shed. His eyes closed and he just sat there for a moment. “When I said that I was sorry, I meant that I was sorry for the way I treated you and Nat.” He shook his head slightly and continued. “You don’t have to say anything. This doesn’t have to be a conversation, but it’s important to me”  _ ‘and Natasha,’  _ he thought, remembering the letter, “That you know I don’t hold any of it against you. You meant a lot to her for some reason,” he joked, trying to lighten the subject. “And she chooses her family carefully.”

Barney was silent. Clint had given him the choice and right to keep silent, so that was what he did and he didn't bother explaining to Clint why he was keeping mum the whole time.

He needed time and space to breathe. All this is just… too fast and too serious to his liking. Why did he get himself into this shit in the first place?

That was about the response he was expecting. Clint just sort of nodded once more and opened his eyes. “If you finish that water, you can have more beer,” he stood, looking down at his brother. “And I’m not going to force you to spend the night as long as you’re sober when you leave.” He picked up the empty bottles and tossed them into the recycling bin in the corner. “But you’re also welcome to stay as long as you want.” With that, Clint just offered a sad smile and turned to walk out of the shed. 

He only gave a nod when Clint looked back to him before walking out of the shed. Barney really wasn't in the mood to be discussing anything, it didn't mean that he didn't appreciate what Clint was doing for him though.

Clint went about the rest of his day. He had the normal farm stuff to attend to, and by late that afternoon, he was finished. The kids were upstairs bathing and showering, and he sat on the couch. Now that things had finally begun to settle, there was the work of going through all of Natasha’s belongings, and not only that, he had to fill out the necessary paperwork for a dead SHIELD agent. Until he’d gotten this job, he had no idea death could produce so much paperwork. Never did he think he was going to be doing hers. 

A SHIELD laptop was open on the living room coffee table as well as a few files next to it. Clint wore his reading glasses as he made notes on the paper and checked off certain things on a sticky note of things that needed to be attended to. He had always seen better from a distance anyhow. Periodically, he would look up to see if the truck was still there. He’d been out working all day, so he didn’t know if Barney had even left the shed. He hoped that he hadn’t. He’d need some time to sober up if not also calm himself down. But there wasn’t much Clint could do to stop him. So he worked. 

Soon enough, Barney walked into the house and made his way. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Clint, just smiling and then pointing to the kitchen. "Mind if I just find something to munch on? I'm kinda hungry."

Clint looked up over the rim of his glasses and nodded, eyebrows raised. He was still here after all. “Help yourself.”

"Thanks," he smiled and then went ahead to get the food he remembers Clint had told him about in the fridge. He would heat it up and wait in front of the microwave oven, as he always does with everything he's cooking. When it was ready, he brought it back to the table and started to eat quietly on his own in the kitchen.

Barney certainly looked sober, but he tried to keep from staring, so he moved back to his work, letting his brother operate on his own. He’d done enough hovering for the day, he figured. 

The kids, however, didn't seem to think that way at all. The first son of the Barton family's offspring lineage came down the stairs with a little bounce on his light feet. He had been thinking of getting a drink from the kitchen but he found Barney there instead. Looking up, the redhead gave a smile to the boy. "Hey," he said, just greeting. "Am I blocking the way?"

The boy simply nodded quietly, still sizing up this stranger sitting in his kitchen. "You're dad's brother, right?"

"That I am," Barney said and extended a hand. "I'm Barney. You must be Cooper. Heard you're great at baseball."

Cooper just gave a smile that reminded Barney so much of little Clint. "I'm not too shabby."

"Yeah? Your dad must have taught you to throw huh," Barney said, then hitching a finger to the fridge. "You were gonna get something?"

"Yeah," the boy said, making his way around Barney to get to the fridge and then pouring a glass of orange juice for himself. He stood there for a while after, just staring at Barney. "Dad says you knew Auntie Nat. Were you friends?"

Barney could feel his heart skip a beat at the mention of her name again, but he kept calm and then nodded. "We were friends, not for as long as your dad had been with her though. I've only known her a couple of weeks. I'm sorry you lost your auntie."

"It's sad, but it's okay. Dad says auntie Nat wouldn't want us all to be too sad for her, mom says she's in a better place now," the boy was bright for his age and Barney wouldn't doubt where he got the brains from. He was smart and strong, he would be a great leader when he grows up, Barney thought.

"Yeah, the best," the redhead said, agreeing to that.

Clint just listened at first, but after a while, he turned around, leaning on the back of the couch to watch the exchange go down. He knew better than to believe it was going to become a normal thing, ‘Uncle Barney and the Bartons,’ but it was still nice to enjoy this moment. Barney wasn’t likely going to stick around long enough to grow that uncle relationship, but this was nice. Maybe Natasha wasn’t wrong. He smiled softly and turned back to his work, beginning to pack it all away. 

“Are you sad?” Cooper asks, unsure if it was okay to ask but he had asked anyway.

Barney looked to the boy, smiling and giving a shoulder shrug. “A little. But I’ll be alright. It’s what Auntie Natasha would want.”

“Yeah,” the blonde boy said.

He then looked up, seeing the person who had just walked into the kitchen. It was his mother. Cooper simply walked over to her as she beckons him and tells him to go finish the juice he had come down to get, really she didn’t want the boy to be digging too much at Barney.

“Sorry, he’s been curious. We don’t get guests often if it isn’t Clint’s friends,” Laura explains, standing by the doorway. Then she turned, looking to Clint and waiting to make eye contact with her husband.

“Hey, Mama,” Clint turned and stretched his arms as he stood, walking into the kitchen. He walked up behind her and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before walking over to the sink and washing his hands. He called over his shoulder to everyone in the room. “Got any requests for dinner?” He’d done enough emotional talking with Barney to last a few years, and he wasn’t about to grill him in front of everyone else in the room. 

“I just finished eating, this is good for me,” Barney said with a smile as he gets up and goes to dump the crumbs left on his plate. He didn’t look at Clint much, well, he wasn’t looking at anyone really. “Thank you so much for the meal.”

Clint dried his hands off on a towel, moving from the sink so Barney could use it. He leaned against the kitchen counter and just sort of nodded. “Anytime.” He meant it. 

He washed his hands and then wiped it with a towel, looking back and smiling brightly to Laura. Despite the two Bartons looking pretty different from each other, there was at least that similarity between the two of them in their smiles. Laura could see it, and a part of her felt sad for them both. Whatever they had lost all those years, she would never wish it upon anyone else and she could only hope that their children would remain close no matter what.

Laura knew the two of them would need some time together, so she smiled and turned right back to attend to the little ones.

“Hey, I know I’ve only been here for like, a day,” Barney starts when he was sure Laura was out of earshot, “but I should really go.”

Clint just sorta nodded and balled up the paper towel before throwing it in the trash can with extreme precision. He wasn’t showing off for his big brother or anything like that, definitely not. Turning back to Barney, he nodded to the front door. “I’ll walk you out.”

“I need to grab my things,” Barney said, gesturing upstairs to the room that he had been staying in. He had just one bag, but he had something a lot more important for him to bring along. He would do anything to just keep that with him. Barney nodded and then grabbed a small ziploc bag when he thought Clint wasn’t looking.

“All right,” he responded, heading towards the door, “I’ll meet you out there.” His back was to Barney as he walked, so he didn’t notice what his brother had done. Clint stepped through the door and just made his way out to where Barney had parked his truck.

Heading upstairs, Barney grabbed his duffel bag and his necessities before going back out. While he was leaving the room, he saw Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel peeking out of one of the other rooms. They were curious about this stranger who appeared to be their uncle, wondering if he would be a constant in their life.

“Are you leaving?” Nathaniel asks, ever the curious little bug.

“Yeah, thanks for letting me stay,” the redhead man said with a smile.

“Will you come back?” Lila asked.

Barney gave it a thought, then smiled and nodded. “Sure, just ask your dad. I’ll drop by when I’m free.”

“What about Christmas?”

“Sure, Christmas.”

After the little exchange, Barney headed downstairs to where his brother had been waiting by his truck. He tossed the bag in the backseat, closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat without much of a word.

Clint stood outside of the window of the truck. This gave him a horrible image of what it must have been like for Nat those five years ago, only this time, he wasn’t expecting Barney to come back. It would be nice, but he knew not to keep his hopes up. He didn’t owe Clint anything. Clint had and would continue to owe Natasha everything. He placed one hand on the door, curling his fingers around the inside of the window. “You’re welcome back anytime, Barney.” He drew in a deep breath and looked into the distance at nothing in particular for a moment. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Yeah, thanks for having me,” was all Barney said. It was enough emotions flying here and there these past two days. It’s just been too much these days for him. Barney didn’t even know what he was staying so long for. He just wanted things to go back to being shallow and nonsensical. At least then, nobody would get hurt.

Clint nodded once more and moved his hand to just pat the truck a few times. There wasn’t much else to say, and he knew Barney wanted to get out, so he’d let him. Taking a step back, he nodded to Barney and stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

Barney had started the engine and was ready to go, but he paused as he gives it a thought. Then he looked to Clint. “You’ve got my number, you can just text me or whatever. And um… Can I come for Christmas? Kinda promised the kids…”

He almost didn’t register what Barney had said. Practically reminding Clint to reach out was one thing that was already astounding enough. Asking to come for Christmas was something completely unprecedented. He almost didn’t know how to react at first. Clint just turned his head, actually looking at Barney. “Of course.” He nodded once. “Yea, no, of course. Just give us a heads up. Laura likes to know when there’s company.” Clint nodded but then quickly added. “Not that you’re not ever welcome. You can crash here anytime.” God, was he bad at this. 

“Yeah, no, I’ll come at Christmas,” Barney said. It was such an awkward push and pull when it came to this topic. How did they get so bad at this? They practically shared one brain cell back when they were kids, but now it’s just… different. Barney could only afford his usual boyish grin and nodded. “See ya.”

He took a glance back just to check that the road was clear, he was ready to turn out of the driveway and leave now. There was no reason to stop for too long. He was leaving, Clint knew that and he didn’t want to stretch out this already awkward session between the two brothers. Besides, they both knew that they needed space from each other after what had happened. Not because they hated each other still, but more because they needed to heal and they were best at doing that in their own solace.

Clint watched as Barney pulled out of the driveway. He still wasn’t sad. If anything, this was progress. It was sad that it came at Natasha’s expense, but she would have wanted them to do this anyways. More good came from her death than she ever would realize. He stood there quietly, watching as Barney’s truck got smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared, which was saying something for the Hawkeye. Once he couldn’t see the truck anymore, he sighed softly and stood there, hands in his pocket. 

Were things perfect? Far from it. But Clint had so much to live for now, and he’d even sort of gotten his brother back. After a moment, he turned, walking back to the house. It had gotten dark, and the only light showing his path was from the house. When he got to the porch, he closed his eyes and listened, hand pressed against the screen door. He could hear Lila on the couch reading a story to Nathaniel, and Laura and Cooper arguing upstairs about why he needed to wash his hair. This brought a smile to his face, and he hung his head, soaking in all of the life that was in his house. 

There was life, and he had it now. He’d gotten it back. Clint waited for a minute and just listened. He’d stood outside this door for weeks after the Incident, hoping that one day he’d open the door and they’d just magically be back. Now they were. Upon opening his eyes, he turned his head to look in the direction of the swing, offering a sad grin. “Thank you.” It was all he said before opening the door and stepping inside. His family was waiting for him. And who was he to keep them waiting?


End file.
